


solum me specta

by mrjbeomsir (liminalsp_ces)



Series: un cœur fidèle [2]
Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Angst, Dark Magic, Enemies to Lovers, Family Issues, Found Family, M/M, Pining, Politics, Pureblood Culture (Harry Potter), Pureblood Politics (Harry Potter), Rituals, Scheming, Slow Burn, Slytherins Being Slytherins
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2020-09-23 10:48:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 48,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20338873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liminalsp_ces/pseuds/mrjbeomsir
Summary: Jaebeom, full of righteous Gryffindor bravery and nobility, hates Jinyoung Park and all that he stands for: blood supremacy, Dark magic, nepotism, and the good ol' classic Slytherin arrogance. Jinyoung, for his part, has been madly in love with Jaebeom ever since they were children.*je ne sais quoi, fully fleshed out! If you came from that short little bit, welcome to the party. ♡





	1. omnium rerum principia parva sunt

**Author's Note:**

> _solum me specta_ is where the little bit [je ne sais quoi](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20349982#main) is from, but it's not necessary to go over that first. It was just a tiny teaser when I was too pumped to start this fic.
> 
> I'm so excited and nervous about this fic! I've been working on it for _months_ because I want everything to be perfect. JJP deserves only the best. I hope you enjoy this fic! Comments, subscriptions, kudos, and bookmarks encourage me to continue writing. xx
> 
> Come visit me at liminalsp-ces on Tumblr if you want updates on my writing! Excelsior!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginnings of all things are small. [Cicero]

_ **Prologue** _

“Do you think this will make a difference? That mercy will soon be on the table for you?”

The question was not directed to anyone in particular. Not that it had to be. There was only the two of them inside that room, after all.

Tall and imposing, a woman stood in front of huge bay windows in a room shrouded in darkness. The windows barely provided any light, even with the heavy drapes drawn aside, as the torrential downpour continued to lay siege outside.

The woman had her back turned against whoever spoke, showing no signs of listening. Her eyes, black as night and just as cold, were gazing at the thick curtain of rain outside.

She remained standing there for quite a while, hardly stirring from wherever her thoughts had taken her.

Then, she spoke.

“My family does not take mercy from anyone. Nor do we bestow it.”

“But you’re obviously not going to survive this. So, are you doing all of this to ask for forgiveness? You know this will only displease your son further,” answered the figure in the dark.

“He’s no son of mine no less than I am no mother of his. I have failed in that endeavour. I have accepted that failure by acknowledging that I no longer have the right to call him my son and myself his mother.”

She finally turned and cast a glance to the room around her.

It was dim inside, but the sheer size of the room was unmistakable.

Draperies that screamed opulence hung along the walls, punctuated by the haunting array of gilded but empty portrait frames. Heavy, ornate furniture stood like sinister shadows in various states of display.

It was no secret what kind of life the owner of such rooms lived. Not that such wealth would still elevate one’s status in death.

As the old adage went, everyone is of equal status when they are dead.

And death, indeed, was inevitable for everyone. But more so with this woman and her strange affliction, an incurable one.

Passed on across generations of women who descended from their proud family, the sickness in her had no cure. The most brilliant in their family had all tried to find a cure, one way or another. No failure could be marked as more morbid than the death of a loved one.

Years before, this woman had desperately embarked on the same search, through her own means. She applied herself to it with such fervour, filled with hope that bloomed uselessly in her heart all because of a fluke, a mistake in the system, a break in tradition.

Her failure also resulted in the loss of a loved one, and maintained the promise of death on the horizon.

The person in the dark stood from a comfortable perch on an ornate _chaise._ He stepped forward, to a sliver of light that shone through the gray blanket of rain outside, and revealed the youthful face of a boy, no older than the woman’s estranged son.

“Well, one thing is for sure. The penchant for dramatics, he certainly got that from you,” the boy muttered inaudibly.

Not that the woman failed to hear him, if the sharpening of her eyes was any indication.

The boy raised his arms placatingly. “All right, no more jests. I am here for official business, after all. Mother said if you call for us, we’re all obligated to come and answer.”

A sharp bark of laughter and the woman was shaking her head. “Don’t pretend that you’re here on behalf of your family. We both know you have more ambition and cunning that do not befit a subordinate, boy.”

“Oh, you meant _business_ then,” the boy stated, a finger tapping his chin. “Speak then, my lady. What business do you have with _ me _ instead of my family?”

“I want to trade favours. A Gringotts vault filled with Galleons, an estate of your own, lands, magic—anything that you can dream of. Fulfill your end of the bargain and all of those will be yours,” the woman declared haughtily.

The boy openly laughed at that. “I keep forgetting that old money like you lot tend to measure things with such trivialities.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Oh, please, don’t feel offended,” the boy was quick to placate her, “I only mean that I do not ask material compensation for the favours I trade.”

“Well, what is it, then? What is your price, you foolish boy?” Impatience was clear in the woman’s agitated voice.

“Ask your favour and I shall ask of you one in return, depending on when I might need something from you. I’m not strict with payments since I usually play for the long haul.”

The woman shook her head. “Long haul? You_ know _I do not have long to live,” she said, now frustrated, “I could keel over and die right at this moment, even!”

“I sure hope not, madam, or I might be unfortunately accused of murdering you in your own home.”

“Please, child,” she said quietly. The woman reached for the nearest sturdy furniture—a delicately carved desk—to steady her quivering frame.

“Ask. Ask your favour and I will tend to it,” the boy responded softly. “I will demand recompense soon enough so your soul might ascend to greener pastures without the weight of unpaid dues.”

A pause, and then:

“There is danger waiting for my son wherever he goes. I’ve made enemies with people who could be crafty and cruel—a dangerous combination. I want you to watch over him and keep an eye out for those who wish to harm him.”

“Surely you don’t expect your enemies to attack your son inside _ Hogwarts_.”

“We cannot rule out any possibilities. These people do not play fair, and I worry about what they could do to him,” the woman bemoaned. “Just watch over him, please. It’s all I ask. You are free to ask me anything in return, just do that for me.”

She buried her delicate face on equally delicate hands, despairing.

“And if I discover who’s been nefarious enough to plot against your precious son inside the castle? What of then?”

The woman raised her head and eyed the boy in front of her. “I’m not asking you to do terrible things. You are still a boy as much as my son is.”

At the declaration, the boy in question chuckled. “You obviously do not know your son anymore, madam, if you think of him as an innocent lamb incapable of violence.”

“What are you saying?”

The boy hummed and circled around the room for a moment, hands caressing the odd little bits here and there. “Think no more of it,” he waved airily, “And you have yourself a deal. I will watch over your son, in exchange for a favour that I will need in the near future.”

“How can you be so sure that the favour you will need will arrive before Death comes knocking at my door?” the woman asked scathingly.

She has grown tired of the conversation already, with the way the boy in her parlour spoke as if he knew things that _ she _ didn’t. By Salazar, he was just a _ boy_. He was open with his cunning and his tricky nature, but he was the only link to her son that she could get a hold of without compromising him further. She was hardly left with a choice.

“You could say that I _ See _things that normal folks don’t,” the boy answered impishly, and suddenly, it made sense to her.

The woman fought the urge to ask _Questions,_ particularly with regards to the end of the line for her. She knew it would be pointless to ask for a date and be awarded a time limit, a countdown to oblivion. She’d much rather be surprised to breathe in one moment, then stop breathing altogether.

“Well then, if that would be all, I shall take my leave, ma’am,” the boy said, turning to the door.

“Wait.”

As she spoke, the woman approached him slowly, almost tentatively.

“Will you at least make sure he’s healthy as well? That he’s treating himself right?”

The boy chuckled. “Oh, ma’am. No one has quite succeeded in making your son care about his health _ for years._ I doubt my empty words would make a difference.”

* * *

* * *

Standing at the train platform in King's Cross, surrounded by the cacophony of sounds that only meant the start of the term for Hogwarts students, Jinyoung allowed himself a moment to absorb everything as he scanned his surroundings. He took special care to return every greeting directed towards him with a small smile.

Summer had been a long and excruciating affair, and he was more than happy to rid himself of the dullness of the past two months.

Briefly, his mind flashed back to the months of weakness in his limbs, the type that still lingered in him even as he stood at the precipice of another year in Hogwarts.

Then, Jinyoung shook himself and stepped into the train.

The year ahead was long and most probably filled with all sorts of shenanigans with his friends. It would do him no good to dwell on the negative.

Finding Jimin and their usual train compartment was always his top priority every time he boards the Hogwarts Express.

“Jinyoung! It’s been _ages_!”

His cousin’s bright and airy greeting was like a balm to the fatigue that had settled deep in his bones, and the warmth of her embrace soothed everything else that ailed him.

“I have missed you too, Cousin Jimin,” replied Jinyoung softly.

Because there were one too many students named “Jimin” at school, his cousin had opted to use her English name to distinguish herself from the other Jimin’s. Everyone referred to her as “Jamie” except for Jinyoung, who preferred addressing the younger using her birth name–a name that toddler Jinyoung himself had awarded her.

A fool’s sentiments, Jimin had always teased him.

“You lost a lot of weight,” came Jimin's stern reprimand. “You lost _a lot_. I don’t like it.”

She squeezed him once, then held him at arm’s length as to if to inspect him herself.

The long, dark robes hid most of his thin figure from view, but the emerald and silver combination of his striped tie did nothing to hide the sickly pallor that almost radiated from Jinyoung’s face.

Jimin herself was already dressed in her school robes. While the green-and-silver ensemble highlighted the illness in the other’s visage, on Jimin, the combination was an excellent complement to her fair skin and her chestnut hair.

“It can’t be helped. The summer was long, and I stayed at the estate for the entirety of it. You know how much that place could drain a person just by being inside its wards.”

“Don’t go pretending and fooling me now. I owled Hakyeon, and he told me everything.”

“There’s not much to tell you, then,” Jinyoung answered with a teasing grin.

The younger girl huffed, taking his deliberate misdirection and rolling with it.

“You could have at least owled me yourself,” she grumbled.

She pulled his robes’ sleeve and led him inside the compartment, sliding the door shut behind her.

No one would bother them there for the entire trip.

Jimin sat in front of Jinyoung, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed.

After her first year in Hogwarts, rarely did she express her worries in public, always reserving them for the most secure of places, where no one could poke her softest spots and take advantage. The fact that she sat there, hands grasping his bony wrists, said a lot.

Jinyoung felt a twinge of guilt.

“Now, tell me how you’ve really been, cousin. I’ve been worried _sick–_and I’m not sorry for the unintentional pun.”

So tell her he did.

He recounted the bouts of weakness, the constant shortness of his breath, and the tiredness that clung to him regardless of the hours he slept. He told her about the array of Healers, experts Portkeyed from different continents, and the most obscure of spells and potions.

Nothing had helped him, nor did any solution last. Not until one Healer, a Muggleborn wizard, suggested seeing a Muggle specialist.

“Father had been against it, as you might have imagined,” Jinyoung stated, “But he wasn’t as strongly opposed to it as I expected. In the end, needs must.”

“So, you’re _sick_? Truly sick? And even the Muggles and their electricity, they, they couldn’t find a cure for you?”

Jimin's eyes were brimming with tears.

Jinyoung turned his palms up and grasped Jimin's hands.

He smiled at her. “Cease your tears, cousin. It’s true; there is no single cure that can make it go away. But the Muggles said that it is quite a common illness. More people survive longer these days, even while living with this illness. There isn’t much we can do, but I am okay.”

His cousin pouted. “Okay? Jinyoung, it’s your _heart_! And you can’t mean you’ll be satisfied with merely surviving? You need to live! _We _need you alive!”

“Now you’re just being dramatic,” Jinyoung chuckled.

“Fine! Be that way! Uncle might as well go ahead and transfer all your inheritance to me since you’re hellbent on wasting away,” grumbled Jimin. Her eyes, in spite of their wetness, shone with tentative mirth.

For that, Jinyoung could rest easy.

“Enough about me. My summer was _boring_. Tell me about Thailand.”

And so, the cousins filled the silence inside that train compartment, Jimin recounting her exotic adventures in Thailand (an unplanned but welcome holiday because of her father’s work) as Jinyoung listened and gasped at the right places.

They would have gone on like that for the rest of the trip if they weren't interrupted by a series of meowing that disturbed their peace two hours later.

“Whose cat is that?” Jimin asked, peering at the small feline at the corridor.

Jinyoung slid closer to the door to examine the creature outside and instantly recognized whose pet it was.

“Oh. That’s Jaebeom’s cat. Nora, I think.”

“Jaebeom _Lim_? What business does his cat have, wandering over here?”

“I know he lets her roam around the train, maybe because she gets restless cooped up in carriers. I wonder why she wandered over here, though; she doesn’t usually spare others a glance, except for her master.”

Jimin awarded him with a look. “And how would you know that, dear cousin? Always making it a point to know about Jaebeom Lim’s business, do you?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t exactly put it like that,” Jinyoung replied with a cheeky grin.

His cousin rolled her eyes.

“He’s handsome, I suppose, in that mysterious, brooding way of his.”

“Mysterious, brooding? I think you might be describing Mark there, cousin.”

“_Please_. I’ve heard Mark Tuan giggle uncontrollably like a schoolgirl while playing with Bambam's pets; he has long stopped looking ‘cool’ and untouchable in my eyes.”

“So Jaebeom is both ‘cool’ and ‘untouchable’, is that it?”

“I just don’t see why you waste your time with him when he never misses an opportunity to lash out to you,” Jimin huffed.

The teasing grin on Jinyoung’s face faded, only to be replaced by a pained but rueful smile.

“I was once a foolish and spoilt child, for one thing,” he answered with a breathless laugh. “For another, I took something from his friend, something that I never intend to return. Not unless I truly want to waste away instead of living, as you asked me to.”

Jimin regarded him with critical eyes, and Jinyoung let her. She was one of the rare ones whom he could allow to examine him as close as that.

“You’re still foolish and spoilt, Cousin Jinyoung. Don’t fool yourself,” was her joking rebuttal.

Jinyoung chuckled at that.

“You may be right about that, Jiminie.”

The younger’s reply was cut off when another mewl echoed outside their compartment, this time more insistent than the last. Jinyoung glanced at Jaebeom Lim’s cat once again and found her on her haunches, wide feline eyes almost imploring him.

He could never have resisted her charm, either way. She wasn’t unlike her master, after all.

In no time, the cat was inside their compartment and in Jinyoung’s arms. Despite her initial skepticism, Jimin was more than delighted to coo and pet the feline, who laid in the older boy’s arms as if a magnanimous empress humoring her human subjects.

When hunger hit, Jimin brought out the carefully-packed set of sandwiches that she always prepares for the train ride they traditionally spend together. She set aside one part for her, and handed the rest to Jinyoung.

However, before taking a bite of his own, Jinyoung Transfigured a portion of his lunch into cat food, one that he had seen Bambam store everywhere he could.

It was the only brand that his friend's cat deemed acceptable, and if it happened to be the most luxurious and most expensive cat food out there, it was no matter to Bambam.

For the rest of the trip, the two of them spoke no more.

Jimin busied herself with reading a book she had purchased while traveling, occasionally humming a lilting tune with her clear voice, a habit that amused and pleased Jinyoung ever since they were children.

In his turn, the elder cousin poured over a Transfiguration tome that his older cousin Hakyeon had mentioned as a valuable resource for those preparing for their N.E.W.T.s.

While he was still a Sixth-year in the incoming term (and thus, far from taking his N.E.W.T.s), Jinyoung couldn’t (could _never_) let himself become complacent enough to spend idle moments without studying. It was, simply, unimaginable for him.

So onward he read, and he could only thank Salazar so much for blessing him with friends and family who let him get away with his obsessive studying–at least, within reason.

*

* * *

*

“Eww, what’s that on your neck!?”

Yugyeom's shrill voice was the one to welcome Jaebeom as he stepped into their train compartment.

"Whoa, whoa, what, is it a hickey?!" an excitable voice followed suit. From his perch near the window, Jackson perked up with a shit-eating grin.

For a brief moment, Jaebeom considered stepping back into the train corridor to spare himself of his friends' antics.

He felt his infamous temper stir a bit in the face of Yugyeom's horrified outburst, but he tamped it down and slid the door shut behind him, visage calm.

“_He’s __just__ playing, he’s __just__ playing, don’t hex the kid_,” was the mantra that he insisted in his head.

Before he could change his mind about refraining from throttling Yugyeom, Jaebeom was distracted when the force of Jackson's hug almost knocked him back.

“Jaebeommie! _Oh, it's your hair__! S_o cool! I missed you so much over the break!” Jackson exclaimed in one breath, eyes bright and metaphorical dog tail wagging.

The boy in question, smothered by Jackson's limbs, briefly returned the hug before he not-so-gently pushed the other away.

Jackson's well-practiced pout made its debut for the day, but Jaebeom was just as adept in remaining unaffected by said pouting as Jackson was in pushing his friend's temper.

Jaebeom smoothed a hand down his longer locks, dyed an ashy gray five days ago, and took the seat that the other vacated.

Jackson whirled back to Yugyeom in a snap. “How dare you react like that to Jaebeom's first foray into the world of risky but rewarding hairstyles?!”

“How dare he sport a _mullet_?! I thought he had a new cat that he had wrapped around his neck like that!” Yugyeom screeched back.

“It looks _vogue _and you know it! Jaebeom looks handsome and chic! Not that you'd know what ‘handsome and chic’ looked like, you absolute heathen!”

Jaebeom bit back a sigh. That morning was hectic enough with his scrambling to make it to the station on time; he really didn't need Jackson and Yugyeom's arguing to welcome him on the train.

“_He looks like an old man_ and you know it!”

“Cut it out, you two!” Jaebeom finally called out.

The squabbling duo instantly quieted down.

Jackson threw himself at his best friend's lap, fight completely forgotten, as he inspected Jaebeom's new hairstyle with keen interest and barely suppressed excitement.

While others who were unfamiliar with Jackson's antics might have gotten whiplashed by the quick change in his mood, Jackson had long been Jaebeom's best friend. He understood the other's quirks and oddities as much as Jackson knew how to handle Jaebeom and his moods.

“Mate, I missed you so much over the break! I love going home to Hong Kong but the international post is too taxing for my poor Fendi. I hadn't managed to send you a single letter at all," lamented Jackson.

He picked an imaginary lint off his friend's dark shirt and flicked it to Yugyeom's direction. Having settled back to his original seat, the younger boy merely rolled his eyes at the immature gesture.

“Anyway, did you receive your O.W.L.s? How did you do? What N.E.W.T.s are you taking? I _know _I should have at least Floo-ed you, but how could I just Floo the office of the Prime Minister herself? Besides, I know you wouldn’t be there anyway. I knew you would've been outdoors with your camera 200% of the time,” came the rapid-fire questions from Jackson.

“I think I did okay. I got eight in total, five E’s and three O’s,” Jaebeom replied, ignoring the mention of his mother’s office and his hobby.

He need not share that two of his O’s were Charms and Transfiguration as it was already common knowledge in their year that Jaebeom's wand work was exceptional.

His Potions O.W.L., on the other hand, was a huge but welcome surprise, Jaebeom aware that he scored an O by the skin of his teeth.

After all, Professor Lee was known to be a strict taskmaster who held extremely high standards for her students and their work.

Despite being the Head of Gryffindor House where Jaebeom (and Jackson) belonged, Professor Lee offered no slack to anyone. Jaebeom figured this out for himself through firsthand experience, as he distinctly recalled how much he struggled and stumbled a few times over the years in her class just to keep up. 

"Merlin, _eight _O.W.L.s?! Jaebeom, that's wonderful!" Jackson yelled, scrambling to embrace his best friend. "For sure, you're one of the top students in our class! I'm so proud of my Jaebeommie!"

He then proceeded to smooch his best friend--or at least, he _attempted_ to, as Jaebeom was having none of Jackson's hyper-affectionate gestures.

From his seat, Yugyeom groaned, “_Ugh,_ I don’t think I’ll ever be ready for O.W.L.s. Youngjae's been stressing about his over the break. He kept sending me letters, always telling me about how he’s been preparing since _last year _for this term.”

“Don’t worry about it much, Gyeomie. Look at me! I wasn’t prepared to sit my O.W.L.s last year but I still pulled through!” Jackson declared. “I even got four E's! And four A's too, of course!"

At the sight of his friend’s twinkling eyes, Jaebeom let out a small smile and caressed Jackson’s hair. He knew it was sometimes difficult for Jackson to focus on academics because of the restless energy that always thrummed beneath his skin. So, it was a huge achievement for his best friend to have pulled through their O.W.L.s like that.

“That’s great, Jacks. I guess we’ll be sitting most of our N.E.W.T.s together, then."

“True, except I didn’t make it to the Potions N.E.W.T.s,” the other replied with another pout.

“What? But you got an E in Potions.”

"Heard from the grapevine that Professor Lee's not accepting anything less than O’s this term. So it’ll be you and only a handful of others,” Jackson shrugged. “Something about avoiding mishaps as much as possible. She’s supposed to be upping the ante this year in Advanced Potions, they say.”

As the heir of an entire empire of enchanted jade, it made sense that year-end exams rarely featured in Jackson's worries. In the grand scheme of things, an O was hardly ever going to be relevant to Jackson's future.

It helped that Jackson's biggest dream was to become a pro-Quidditch player, a profession that would hardly demand excellent academic performance from him.

Jaebeom, while his family was indeed relatively well-off even without their own trade empire, was not privy to the same privilege.

“Did your fellow old ladies also tell you who would be in Professor Lee's Advanced Potions class?” Jaebeom said instead.

He was, of course, referring to Jackson's friendship with two other Gryffindor Sixth-years, Seungyoon, and Mino. The three were sort of a legend in the castle.

A trio of terrible gossips, they run a vast network of information exchange within the walls of Hogwarts, even employing the help of the castle's portraits. There was hardly anything that happened in the school that the terrible trio did not know of.

Jaebeom had no idea how they did it, nor did he desire to understand how the whole system worked.

After all, Jackson's gossip network had been a huge help many times in the past, and Jaebeom did not doubt that it will continue to be such. Like for this instance: determining Jaebeom's future classmates in Advanced Potions.

Jackson caught the teasing twinkle in his eye and whined in complaint.

“For the last time, Seungyoon, Mino and I are not gossips! We like to keep updated with the ongoings at school, that's all!”

“Isn’t that the same thing?” Yugyeom snorted.

Jackson kicked him in wordless retaliation.

Yugyeom yowled as clutched his hurt shins, mutinous glare shot to the perpetrator.

Jackson only stuck his tongue out. “Go ahead and be a little shit to me. See if I ever tell you things, especially the juiciest ones."

“He says ‘things’, I say ‘gossip’.”

“So,” Jaebeom cut in, “What did you hear, then? Who made the cut?”

Jackson bit his lip and avoided his friend's gaze for a moment.

“Uhh, nothing has been confirmed yet. Like I told you, sending post from Hong Kong was tricky. But you know that Park always tops the year-end exams. Don't think it's a stretch to say he got an O, too."

Jaebeom understood well why Jackson avoided his eyes.

Jaebeom's "relationship" with Jinyoung Park, Slytherin Prince of their generation, went way, way back. For as long as he could remember, he had always known the other boy.

As children, before they entered Hogwarts, they always saw each other in socialite parties and events that Pureblood families host. Considering that they both came from affluent families, it wasn't anything surprising.

Jaebeom's father was previously a high-profile Curse-Breaker for Gringotts, who retired a few years ago and established an independent Curse-Breaking consultancy. His mother, a Muggle politician, eventually became the Prime Minister.

Jinyoung's family was the more prestigious one, as they belonged at the upper echelon of Purebloods, serving the magical community since time immemorial. The Park family held high-ranking positions in perhaps every institution in society. Jinyoung's father, the Park patriarch himself, was the chairman of the Hogwarts Board of Governors.

In Jaebeom's _unbiased_ opinion, Jinyoung had been taking advantage of this fact ever since they entered Hogwarts five years ago.

It was also around that same time when Jaebeom started to hate Jinyoung and all that he represented.

Jaebeom would not be the first to pretend that he had no preexisting prejudice against the House of Slytherin--he could admit that much. Even so, he tried not to let house stereotypes cloud his judgment and treatment of other people.

At least, save for the case of Jinyoung Park and by extension, his loyal Slytherin posse.

For Jaebeom, the animosity that he felt (and showed) towards the Slytherin was warranted.

Behind the façade composed of a charming smile and dimples hid a serpentine personality. Jinyoung rarely (if at all) involved himself in any kind of conflict with anyone. Despite this, he had a way of talking that reflected how he expected everyone to bow to his will and do his bidding. (And if his words did not do the job, he had his personal attack dog in the form of a Thai boy called Bambam, and a silent but dangerous bodyguard named Mark Tuan.)

Endeared to the majority of the students and teachers, Jinyoung fooled the entire school with his eye smile and fake gentleness.

At least, except for Jaebeom, as he had known the other boy for quite some time now.

“Are you...upset? Do you want me to look for Seungyoon and Mino to confirm?” Jackson asked, tentative and wary.

“Well, there’s no denying it. He is good at Potions,” Jaebeom said offhandedly.

He didn't miss the way Jackson and Yugyeom exchanged a glance, but Jaebeom opted not to push the issue further. Thinking about Jinyoung Park always angered him, anger that always left him fatigued after it passes.

Before any of them could utter another word, the familiar sound of the trolley echoed from the corridor.

Jackson rose from his sprawl, ripping their compartment door open in time to call out to the trolley lady.

"Oi! Jackson!" a loud voice called out.

There was no mistaking Youngjae's voice.

"YOUNGJAE! YOU MADE PREFECT!" was Jackson's joyful squeal.

While Jaebeom and Jackson belonged to the same year and the same house (Gryffindor), Yugyeom and the newcomer Youngjae were both younger and from Hufflepuff.

Youngjae Choi was the epitome of what a Hufflepuff was: kind, loyal, patient, and hardworking. It was a running joke among them that Yugyeom did not seem like he belonged in the same house as Youngjae when the former was anything but the list of qualities that described the latter.

(Although, Jaebeom admitted to himself that Yugyeom could be loyal to a fault. He has been witness to that for three years now, after all.)

Already dressed in his school robes, Youngjae stepped into their compartment with a huge grin. Jackson followed suit, almost buying the entirety of the trolley if not for Jaebeom's intervention.

"Look at that badge! Watch out guys, Youngjae will be handing out detentions to us in no time!" Jackson teased.

Yellow and black complimented Youngjae's kind features, but the shining silver prefect pinned on his chest stole everyone's attention.

"Youngjae! Congratulations! We're so proud of you," Jaebeom greeted. He cupped the younger's neck in an affectionate gesture.

The Hufflepuff only laughed, voice echoing. "I didn't think I'd get chosen, what with all the shenanigans you three dragged me into last year."

"Don't group me with _them_!" Yugyeom protested, pout already protruding from his youthful face. "If anything, I only get in trouble _because _of their stupid Gryffindor recklessness!”

"We all know you're only a Hufflepuff because of your softie heart, Gyeom," Jaebeom teased him.

"And for the record, at least half of our terrible ideas also came from you! Don't play the victim here!" Jackson added.

Youngjae looked bemused from where he stood near the door.

"You're all equally terrible, but for my sake this term, _please _don't get in too much trouble," the prefect groaned, albeit good-naturedly. "Don't make my job too difficult for me."

"Care to share your summer stories, prefect? I bought some peppermint sweets--your favorite!" said Jackson. He offered the younger a peppermint candy cane, which looked so out of place with Christmas so far away.

Youngjae glanced at his wristwatch and smiled apologetically to his friends. “Uh, I actually have to go. I only dropped by to tell you guys that we have a prefects meeting. I have to ride with the others after that.”

“Aw, look at Youngjae making new friends,” Jackson sniffled. “Taking up responsibilities now, too. Don’t grow up too fast, Gyeomie.” He moved to the other bench where Yugyeom sat and clung so tight to their youngest friend that Yugyeom reddened at once, air cut off by Jackson’s arms.

“See you at breakfast tomorrow, Youngjae?” Jaebeom confirmed with the other Hufflepuff.

Youngjae looked torn.

“I can’t promise I’ll be there at breakfast; I might have to assist the Hufflepuff first-years in finding their class. But I’ll definitely eat at your table over lunch!” he assured with a bright grin. “I have to go. Better change into your robes--”

“No, wait, Youngjae! Jaebeom, go get your camera and take a photo of Youngjae! This is a momentous occasion that should be immortalized in photos! _Accio_, Jaebeom’s camera!”

Jaebeom's heart skipped a few beats when he saw his precious camera floating precariously from his luggage and into Jackson's awaiting hands. He hissed in annoyance at his friend's impatience, but the other's victorious grin was too infectious to get mad about. Instead, Jaebeom made a mental note to scold his friend on a separate occasion.

For now, Jackson was right: It was an important achievement for their young friend. A commemorative photo would indeed be a nice souvenir.

Jaebeom instructed Youngjae to stand on a well-lit spot in the train corridor, then paused to fiddle with his camera’s settings.

“Stand right there and smile, Youngjae. Are you ready?”

At the Hufflepuff’s affirmative reply, Jaebeom held the camera to his face, peering with great care to the viewfinder. After hearing the shutter click, Jaebeom lowered the camera back to chest level, smiling at Youngjae.

“We’re proud of you, Youngjae,” Jaebeom murmured.

“Thanks, guys! I’ll see you tomorrow at lunch!”

The Hufflepuff prefect bid them all goodbye, shuffling to the direction of the prefects’ carriage.

When Youngjae’s retreating figurewas finally out of view, Jaebeom returned inside and sat beside Yugyeom. (Jackson had completely sprawled out on the other bench).

For the rest of the trip, the three of them entertained themselves with a game of Exploding Snap, snacking on sweets that Jackson managed to buy from the trolley lady while recounting interesting anecdotes of their summers.

* * *

The train was nearing Hogsmeade station when Jaebeom heeded Youngjae's earlier advice and changed into his proper school robes. Both Jackson and Yugyeom followed suit.

Jaebeom fastened the gold and scarlet tie around his neck with practiced ease, leaving it loose. Yugyeom looked like he was fighting (and losing badly) with his black and yellow one. Jackson, on the other hand, showed no signs of even remembering to bring his.

When they were dressed properly, the returned to the playful exchange of banter and snacks, until a pretty girl stopped by their compartment.

“Hullo, my name is Momo Hirai and I'm a new fifth-year prefect. Head Girl Seulgi requested us to remind all the students to secure your belongings and clean up after yourselves before disbarking the train.”

The girl, obviously a Slytherin because of her robes and tie, was a newly-minted prefect like Youngjae based on the prefect badge on her robe.

“Hey, by any chance, have you seen a cat wandering down the hallway?” Jaebeom inquired politely. So far, despite being a Slytherin, the prefect was nothing but professional so Jaebeom thought he could at least afford her the same.

Momo tilted her head a bit. “Does this cat have beige fur all over and brown fur around her face and feet?”

“Yes, that’s the one.”

Earlier when Jaebeom boarded the train, he let out his cat Nora out of her carrier before going to search for his friends. The prissy feline hated being locked up in her carrier and hated staying cooped up in a single train compartment as well. It has then become a habit of his to let his precious pet roam around the train, unsupervised, on the way to Hogwarts.

Nora had always appeared to know instinctively when to return to Jaebeom, but oddly enough, the cat was yet to reappear. Jaebeom was getting worried.

“I did see her while I was patrolling,” the Slytherin prefect admitted, finger tapping her bottom lip in thought. “Oh yeah! I passed by Jinyoung’s compartment earlier and I saw a cat curled up in his lap. It looked a lot like the cat you’re looking for.”

“Uh-oh,” came Jackson’s voice from behind him.

Uh-oh, indeed.

The temper outburst that Jaebeom held off earlier came back with a vengeance.

Jinyoung Park had _ no right—_

“Where did you say Jinyoung’s compartment is?” Jaebeom asked through gritted teeth.

As if sensing the brewing storm in Jaebeom’s mind, Momo eyed him with a wary stance. “You do know that I’m allowed to take action if a fight breaks out between the two of you, right?” It was evident that she was also aware of the animosity between the two.

“I wouldn’t worry about that, Hirai. As long as you don’t pick sides and cover for Park’s arrogant ass. Else we'll have to call for our representative prefect for backup.”

Momo rolled her eyes. “I’d rather you wait until we’re all back at the castle so the older prefects can deal with you lot instead of me.”

“Aren’t you supposed to, I don’t know, egg them on so you can dock points from us unfairly?” Jackson piped in, trying to diffuse the situation by redirection. Yugyeom looked near ready to exit the train through their compartment’s narrow window.

“I don’t know what preconceived _ bullshit _you have about prefects, but we don’t have that much time to cater to—”

“ Just tell us where Jinyoung and my cat are,” Jaebeom cut in impatiently.

His callousness did not go unnoticed nor did the Slytherin prefect seem like she will let it pass.

She clicked her tongue in annoyance. “I’m still a prefect, the least you could do is respect that if you can’t respect me for being a Slytherin.”

Before any of the boys could reply, a familiar silky voice called out, “I can take it from here, Momo. I apologize for causing you inconvenience because of my whims.”

Speak of the devil and indeed he will come.

Jinyoung Park, right in the flesh, emerged from the other end of the train carriage, dressed neatly in his school robes. In his arms, he carried the missing cat, who was contently purring from her perch.

“Nora!”

Every atom in Jaebeom’s body, magical or not, screamed at him to stalk forward and snatch his pet from the Slytherin’s arms. It was only the presence of a prefect that made him stop and think.

The cat’s ears visibly perked but instead of scratching Jinyoung Park’s pretty face as Jaebeom had originally hoped for, Nora only meowed in response.

“What did you do to her? You’re dead if I find out you did something to her, Park,” Jaebeom growled.

Jinyoung, arrogant little prick that he was, only covered his mouth in a faux scandalized expression, doe eyes wide. The signet ring on his other hand (embossed with the Hanja of his family name) glittered as Jinyoung caressed Nora’s soft fur.

“Oh, my. Does feeding her cat food count in your death threat? I sure hope not.” the Slytherin exclaimed. “After all, I did provide her only with the best and most expensive cat food that I have on hand.”

If only Jaebeom did not love his cat, he might have been tempted to set her on fire along with the boy carrying her.

“But where would you even get cat food? You don’t own a cat,” Yugyeom pointed out. “Also, how are you sure that it’s the most expensive cat food out there?”

Jinyoung smile was wry when he answered. “Bambam’s little beast of a cat doesn’t eat anything less than the most expensive. I snagged one can from his carry-on.”

“Crazy rich Purebloods and their unnecessary extravagance,” Jackson muttered, although it was audible enough for everyone to hear.

“I’d blame it all on the prissy little monster, but you might not be wrong about Bamie’s excessive indulgences,” Jinyoung conceded.

Someone cleared their throat.

“Can I interest you all to take this up in the castle?” Momo deadpanned. “Because you’re holding me up with your cat discussion, and I need to help Taehyung with the firsties real soon.”

True enough, they all felt the train slow down, almost ready to stop at the Hogsmeade station. In no time, older students will be flocking outside to ride a carriage up to the castle, while Fifth-year prefects wrangled the incoming first-year students to the boat ride across the lake.

“That’s fine, Momo. You can go ahead and help Taehyung,” Jinyoung assured his junior.

“No offense, but Jisoo specifically asked me not to let you get in trouble.”

Jinyoung’s kind smile noticeably froze. “Jisoo said that? Interesting.”

Jackson guffawed. “Are you always this subordinate to girls, Park?”

The Slytherin in question’s smile tightened. “Do you mean to ask if I always respect women and give due recognition to their words? Because yes, I always endeavor to do so, Wang. How about you? Do you at least respect your mother?”

Said Gryffindor snarled, “Fuck off about my mother, Park! You know _ nothing _about mothers.”

Jackson’s anger was palpable, and he almost successfully lunged at the Slytherin’s throat if not for the strong arms that held him back.

“Let me at him, Jaebeom!”

“Hey, I said that’s enough!” Momo shouted, drawing her wand warningly and pointing it to Jackson’s struggling frame.

Jaebeom did not waste a moment and drew his own, pointing it to the Slytherin prefect just as Jackson whipped out his own.

“What’s the meaning of this?” a soft but furious voice demanded.

Seokjin Kim, Seventh year Slytherin and this year’s Head Boy swooped in the middle of the raised wands, eyebrow arched on his handsome face.

“Oh boy,” Yugyeom squeaked, retreating further into their compartment.

“Step away from each other and put your wands away,” Seokjin ordered firmly. He met their glares with an unwavering stare.

“Great, where’s our prefect when we need reinforcements,” Jackson muttered, stepping back and lowering his wand. He pointedly did not keep it inside his robes, but Seokjin chose not to comment further. Momo and Jaebeom did the same.

“Hello, Seokjin. Congratulations on getting chosen as Head Boy,” Jinyoung greeted the newcomer pleasantly.

His wand was glaringly missing in action, and Jaebeom couldn’t help but feel sick. If Seokjin, acting in his capacity as Head Boy were to dole out punishments based on incriminating evidence, he and Jackson were obviously the “villains” in this scenario.

It was their word (two hot-headed Gryffindors with their wands out, poised in aggressive stances) against Jinyoung’s (Prince of Slytherin and Hogwarts’ precious darling, wand absent in the tableau, carrying a damn cat in his arms).

“Prefect Hirai, what happened here?” Seokjin addressed the only girl, completely ignoring Jinyoung’s greeting.

“Honestly, they were just fighting over the cat at the start but now I don’t even know anymore,” Momo complained. “I’m sorry I couldn’t diffuse the situation as you asked us earlier, Seokjin.”

“That’s fine, Momo. You can go and help Taehyung with the first years. He’s still gathering them before sending them away to the boats.”

Because of the crackling tension, none of them even noticed that the train had already stopped. From afar, they could finally hear the thundering footsteps and chatter of hundreds of students scrambling to get off the train.

Momo shrugged and offered a jaunty salute, all but brisk-walking to the nearest exit while muttering something that closely sounded like, “I’d rather deal with actual kiddies than man-children.”

Seokjin curtly addressed the trio of friends next. “I better not catch you up to something soon, not when I saw you like this barely before we’ve even arrived at the castle. Now go catch up with the others and don’t make me regret letting you off easily. I wouldn’t be so generous the next time.”

“You’re not going to give us detention or dock house points?” Yugyeom asked, voice small.

Seokjin’s dry look made the Hufflepuff shrink on himself further. “Like I said, not in the castle yet. Also, if you think your petty squabbling is worth my time, that’s cute but you are sorely mistaken. Now sod off, Jeongguk might be already waiting for you outside.”

Properly chastened, Yugyeom’s face burned in embarrassment as he hastened to drag Jackson to the exit. The Gryffindor protested loudly but followed anyway. He turned back when he noticed that their trio was missing one member.

“Jaebeom, aren’t you coming?”

“If Jinyoung could just kindly return my cat without opening his arrogant mouth further, then I’d be on my merry way.”

Jinyoung, who was oddly locked in a wordless conversation with his fellow Slytherin, startled.

“Oh, of course. Silly me. I apologize for keeping you, Jaebeom,” Jinyoung stated, a distracted smile blooming on his face. He made a move to approach Jaebeom to hand off the unsuspecting cat (who looked entirely too smug in her role as a drama catalyst).

Jinyoung crouched down and gently let Nora hop off the cradle of his arms, petting the cat for one last time. Jaebeom was there in an instant to scoop his cat up.

Almost to himself, Seokjin shook his head and sighed, “Hakyeon will definitely hear about this.”

He turned back to Jaebeom and his friends. “You really should hurry or the carriages will be gone soon.”

Sensing the dismissal in his tone, the three friends finally exited the train.

“Hey, Jaebeom!”

Jaebeom turned his head hastily—even if he insisted later on that it was only out of instinct that he heeded Jinyoung’s call.

“I love what you did to your hair. It looks wonderful on you.”

* * *

As much as Jinyoung loved catching a glimpse of Jaebeom’s face, he couldn’t deny, at least to himself, that the hostility and barbed words do take their toll on him. Encounters with him and his merry band of do-gooders always leave Jinyoung a little miserable, uncomfortable with guilt, and sometimes hateful of himself.

Seokjin witnessing the whole ordeal was less than ideal, but truth be told, Jinyoung was thankful for the intervention.

Not that it was over now, no, not by a long shot.

The Head Boy stood behind him grimly, waiting a minute or two after the Gryffindors (and Hufflepuff) departed for the carriages, before speaking.

“I’m not gonna pretend like understand why you lot always fight,” Seokjin began, “but _Salazar be damned_, is it possible for you to stop this rubbish–at least during my term as Head Boy? I will go grey fast because of you, I swear it.”

Jinyoung turned to the older boy with a rueful smile. “I’m sorry you had to see that, Seokjin. And congratulations, truly. There’s no doubt that the badge belongs to you.”

“Thanks. But don’t think you’ll be off the hook just because you’re buttering me up like that,” dismissed Seokjin.

“But I’ve been told that I’m good at it,” Jinyoung shot back teasingly.

“Enough with the cheek, Park. Hakyeon will hear about this whether you like it or not.”

The younger Slytherin’s expression was guileless. “I’m not trying to talk you out of reporting me to Cousin Hakyeon, pointless as it might be.”

“Look, I’m not your cousin, and I won’t presume to tell you what to do. But he asked a lot of us to keep an eye on you, and I’m loyal to that promise, Jinyoung. We’re loyal to each other.”

Heaving a sigh, Jinyoung locked his gaze with Seokjin’s. “I’m aware of what loyalty means to you, to Hakyeon. It means the same to me, too.”

“If you do, then don’t fight me on this. We’re not the enemy.”

“I know that. I’m grateful for your loyalty, even if it’s not to me.”

Their conversation was cut short when Seulgi Kang peeked into the train carriage and spotted them.

“Hey, you two, the carriages are almost gone. Get going,” she admonished lightly.

Jinyoung smiled and greeted her, moving to exit the train and find a carriage of his own. “I’ll leave you both to it then.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Jinyoung. Just ride with Seulgi and me,” Seokjin reproved. “I need to keep my eye on you, anyway.”

Seulgi giggled at Jinyoung’s exasperated look but did not argue against the suggestion.

Together, the three of them climbed aboard one of the few carriages left.

In no time, they reached the castle and entered the Great Hall.

Because both of his companions were the Head Boy and Head Girl respectively, Jinyoung expected them to leave him at the Entrance Hall so they could return to their duties. He was then surprised when Seokjin nodded slightly to Seulgi before putting a firm hand on his shoulder instead, escorting him straight to the Slytherin table.

Jaehwan Lee was already beaming at them. He enthusiastically beckoned to the empty spot beside him. Seokjin was more than glad to push Jinyoung to the saved seat.

“There. He’s _your _problem now, Jaehwan. I have more pressing matters to attend to than pulling Hakyeon’s cousin out of trouble with Gryffindors,” Seokjin declared with finality.

Jaehwan only chuckled as the Head Boy strode away, head held high as he made a beeline to where Seulgi was waiting for the Sorting to start.

“It’s good to see you up and about, Jinyoung, especially with the summer you had. If Hakyeon’s frantic letters are to be believed, that is.”

The smile on his face was serene, but Jinyoung knew better than to take Jaehwan Lee’s smiles at face value. He has known the older Slytherin for nearly a decade now, as he was one of his Cousin Hakyeon’s oldest friends.

There was a lot going on underneath that veneer of pleasantness.

“When Seokjin said Hakyeon asked a lot of people to watch over me, I didn’t think he’d mean _you_.”

“Oh, Jinyoung, who’s better suited to watch over you for Hakyeon than me?” said Jaehwan, waving him off.

“I wouldn't presume to know, Jaehwan. Anyone _but _you, how about that?”

“You know he’ll never settle with his worries if he doesn’t ask anyone. Seokjin is busy with his shiny Head Boy badge. Hakyeon’s favoured children are both in Hufflepuff and Gryffindor respectively, and you can’t really rely on Wonshik to handle delicate matters like this.”

“And _you’re _the best candidate, I suppose?”

Despite himself, Jinyoung felt himself smiling at the absurdity of having Jaehwan Lee as his babysitter, especially when it was Hakyeon who asked him in the first place.

Loving but high strung Cousin Hakyeon, who cried when he graduated the year before not because he was sad to leave Hogwarts, but because he worried about his “baby” cousin. Cousin Hakyeon, who was responsible for enchanting the alcohol in Slytherin parties to transform into water every time an underage Slytherin gets ahold of a single drop.

“Darling, I’m his only option now,” Jaehwan sniffed.

At that, Jinyoung chuckled. “I hope some of you have taken the responsibility of rehabilitating Cousin Hakyeon into moving on and letting go of his schoolboy memories.”

“I _do _miss him terribly. And dearest Taekwoon too, of course,” Jaehwan admitted. “No need to worry, though, darling. My job is to keep an eye on you, not to bar you from everything less than a hundred percent healthy. That’s Hakyeon’s job, not mine.”

“I did receive a clean bill of health, plus express permission to return to school, you know. From expert Healers too,” Jinyoung offered wryly.

Jaehwan sighed and sent him a sympathetic look, breaking his wicked-but-benevolent persona.

“Look, Jinyoung. Loyalty is important to snakes like you and me, and I’m sure you know that. I’m loyal to my friendship with Hakyeon. You cannot resent me for that.”

Jinyoung sagged a little in his seat. He hadn’t even seen his friends yet since Seokjin marched him straight to Jaehwan without stopping to say hi to anyone. And here he was, discussing loyalty and its value to Slytherins like him with one of his cousin’s closest friends.

He knew that Jaehwan’s words rang truth–it was Hakyeon’s wishes, not necessarily Jaehwan’s, and Jinyoung was intimately familiar with the kind of friendship where nothing could ever make one or the other waver.

He understood it because Slytherins had always built their most precious relationships with this kind of deep, unfailing faith–the kind that the rest of the school was wont to twist into something it was not.

“I understand.”

Jaehwan shot him a look. “I better not get Mark or Bambam biting at my heels anytime soon, you hear me?”

“You’ll find that they are both more likely to be part of Hakyeon’s army of sitters to be any threat to you.”

The elder grinned suddenly and clapped his hands in faux excitement. “Excellent! Then it would be of no consequence if I drag you off to the kitchens after the feast.”

“I haven’t even seen _neither hide nor hair_ of my friends,” Jinyoung protested.

“Your touching reunion could wait, darling. You’ve got a Floo call lined up, and Hakyeon shall wait no later than after the feast,” Jaehwan dismissed. “You’re aware of how delicate it is to arrange these things.”

If it were a normal circumstance, Jinyoung wouldn’t have bothered with Jaehwan and his game of false sweet façade. But Jaehwan was operating under Hakyeon’s request that time, and Jinyoung could never say no to his precious family.

Resigned, Jinyoung steeled himself to endure the Welcome feast sitting beside Jaehwan, but the elder boy dismissed him just as quick and sent him to where Bambam and Mark were seated.

He only shook his head at Mark’s questioning look and hardly spoke for the rest of dinner.

*

It was already late at night by the time Jinyoung slipped into the Slytherin common room.

Hakyeon's furious litany only ran out of steam after the Firewhiskey that Jaehwan had coaxed him to drink, took effect. Even then, his elder cousin continued to lament the "loss" of the sweet-faced Jinyoung during his youth, who obeyed his instructions without question.

“The Jinyoung that I know today only brings me stress and misery,” Hakyeon had accused him, “Especially when I _specifically _told him to owl me about his health!”

Jaehwan offered Jinyoung a sympathetic look a few times but otherwise kept mum while Hakyeon went on and on.

“I told you, Jinyoung, I can’t come to visit you because of family feuds, _Salazar’s beard we are a mess of families_—so I asked you to owl me instead because I worry, you _know _that_—”_

The confrontation earlier on the train, as relayed by Seokjin through Jaehwan, was utterly forgotten.

Instead, an irate Hakyeon went on and on about Jinyoung's "appalling disregard for his well-being" (the elder's words, minced into something acceptable to hear in polite company), mentioning the steady flow of medical personnel in the Park estate over the summer.

At the rate of the angry words that spilled from the elder's mouth, Jinyoung couldn't have defended himself.

Back in the common room, Jinyoung took a cursory glance around the deserted area. He took note of the dying embers by the fireplace.

Everyone must have already gone to bed, perhaps in preparation for the start of classes the next morning.

“We’re over here, Jinyoung,” a disembodied voice called out.

Striding over to the emerald couch facing the fireplace, he spotted his friends sprawled together.

Mark was the picture of serenity as he laid on his back, freshly-dyed cherry red hair spread like a halo. Bambam's lithe but longer frame was curled up on top of the elder, not unlike how his sphinx cat rested on top of his head.

“Did you both wait for me long? You should have gone to bed, especially when this kid passed out,” Jinyoung murmured.

The entire common room was barely lit, but Jinyoung could feel Mark’s gaze boring into his.

Mark had always been his most perceptive friend, despite their not being the longest of Jinyoung's friendships.

(The honor belonged to two other people who equally loved to comment on Jinyoung's life no matter what he did.)

Mark, on the other hand, showed that he cared through pointed silences and inquiring looks.

“Sorry. I know Bamie had a lot of stories he wanted to share. You must have gotten tired of his chatter after the twenty-minute mark.”

It was tradition for the trio to spend the night before the start of the term together, exchanging stories about their summers. They usually did this after the Welcoming Feast and before bed, since Jinyoung _always_ spent the train ride with Jamie.

As Purebloods, tradition was important to the three of them. Today was the first time that the three of them ever broke this particular custom.

“Bam said he wanted to wait up for you.”

“Cousin Hakyeon had a Floo call arranged, and he wouldn’t stop scolding me about my health. Jaehwan Lee somehow got him sloshed despite not being in the same room, and Hakyeon always gets _maudlin _when he’s drunk. I had to wait for Taekwoon to put him to bed.”

After a beat, Jinyoung added: “Will you forgive me?”

“I heard about what happened on the train.”

Jinyoung stilled, then sighed.

“Hirai enjoys my leniency too much.”

“Jisoo's the one who told me. Said you can’t possibly have the entire Slytherin House under your thumb, that she has her own loyal minions here.”

Jinyoung snorted inelegantly, “Of course she calls her acquaintances as ‘minions’.”

Mark didn’t reply, but Jinyoung felt the piercing look all the same. He sighed again for good measure.

“I’m all right. It’s nothing I haven’t heard before.”

“I know you expressly said we couldn’t retaliate against Jaebeom since he’s the ‘son of the Muggle Prime Minister’ however insignificant that is to me,” said Mark pointedly, “Wang, though? He's fair game. I’d love to hex his imbecilic face to the next millennium.”

“Personally, I think Yugyeom Kim would look pretty when he’s crying,” came Bambam’s muffled voice.

Now that the younger was awake, Mark seemed to consider it acceptable to push the younger off of him. Except:

“Don’t fucking push me, or else Latte will scratch our faces off,” Bambam screeched frantically.

He and Mark continued to bicker for a moment, hissing angrily about stupid cats and needy children. A massive yawn from Mark interrupted their small scuffling.

Jinyoung suddenly felt terrible for making his friends wait in the first place.

Gingerly, he extended his hands and lifted the hairless feline off Bambam's mop of blond hair. He was careful not to tug the fragile strands of his friend's hair accidentally.

As expected, Latte was roused from her sleep. Upon noticing that it was Jinyoung, she gave an annoyed feline huff but only slinked off on her own after.

"Time to head to bed, you two," Jinyoung ordered. "Even this little beastie says she needs the beauty rest."

Bambam pouted and whined, “But I was promised some juicy gossip during dinner! Also, you wouldn’t believe what happened to me this summer!”

With the cat gone, Mark did not hesitate to push off the younger's weight off his chest.

“Ow! You meanie!”

“Jinyoung’s right: I’m beat, and I have an early morning class tomorrow.”

“Your first class is at ten in the morning_—_Herbology with the 'Puffs,” Bambam dismissed, tone matter-of-fact. “Coincidentally, I know Herbology is your best subject, Mister I-Got-An-Outstanding-O.W.L.-in-Herbology.”

“Like I said: I have an _early morning_ class.”

Jinyoung pulled Bambam to his feet. “Come now, petal. I promise you will have my full undivided attention tomorrow at breakfast. For now, we better get some rest.”

The younger visibly huffed.

“Fine. But only because I have Transfiguration first thing tomorrow and I’m excited to see what look Professor Kibum will go with this term. Man, being a Metamorphmagus must be so awesome.”

Mark snorted, “Not to mention kinder to the scalp.”

He threw a sideways glance at Bambam, who bristled and retorted, “_You_ dyed your hair too!”

“All right, you two, hug it out. I’m exhausted, and I wanna go to bed soon, please,” Jinyoung interrupted with forced cheer.

The fatigue that lingered in his limbs earlier that day has returned with a vengeance. Jinyoung knew he was at his limit; he knew better than to push his luck so early in the term.

Bambam grumbled under his breath, but he was the one who reached for the red-haired elder first. The two embraced, Bambam’s face buried in Mark’s mop of red hair.

Satisfied, Jinyoung pushed his friends towards the staircase leading to their dormitory.

It had been a long day, but Jinyoung looked forward to the promise of the incoming term, especially with Jaebeom Lim looking handsome as sin, words just as barbed as the past years.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am liminalsp-ces on Tumblr! I will post updates, sneakpeeks, and rants about writing this on that space. xx


	2. cognosco melior, facio taliter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do as I say, not as I do.

* * *

Jinyoung almost scrambled off his bed when he realized how late it was when he woke up. At least, late in _his _standards.

He felt groggy and fatigued, a small side effect of the potions he had been taking since that summer.

The tiredness in his bones could have easily been countered by a few choice solutions. Medical-grade potions, well in his rights to possess and consume. A little household remedy he'd developed himself. Jinyoung had all these at his disposal, but he was careful to limit his dependence on healing potions. 

(A family history of overdosing and misusing healing potions would make any rational wizard wary.)

Mark was on the bed beside his, flat on his back with his arms neatly tucked at his sides. His breathing was steady and almost soundless. Even in slumber, he looked dignified and stoic.

Jinyoung couldn’t say the same for the other occupants of the room, all in varying degrees of sleep and sprawl.

Mentally, he debated on the merit of waking his friend. He weighed to himself if it was worth the trouble of rousing a sleeping dragon much earlier than needed.

Mark loved to sleep as much as any adolescent, but he was also a terribly light sleeper. He was also terribly unforgiving in the first hour or two of the morning.

Jinyoung didn’t have much choice in the end. The weakness in his limbs screamed at him that indeed, assistance was very much needed. 

Thus, with the type of delicacy that he reserved when brewing complex potions, Jinyoung slowly slipped off his bed. He moved as far away as possible from Mark’s reach as he pulled out his wand underneath his pillow.

He cast a single _Tempus _charm (a little past seven in the morning, and first period started at nine), then turned back to Mark’s prone form.

“_Wingardium leviosa!_” he murmured.

Mark’s blanket steadily lifted off his sleeping body. 

An audible curse in a foreign tongue was the only warning he got.

Half a second later, Mark’s eyes were half-open, wand on hand, and Jinyoung had to nimbly dodge a well-aimed nonverbal hex. The resounding yelp was followed by a muffled thud and a string of curses–a faultless but necessary casualty.

After an hour, Mark trailed sluggishly after Jinyoung and Bambam, as the Slytherin trio made their way to the Great Hall for breakfast.

The pair was affectionately holding hands to hide how much Jinyoung was leaning on the younger for support. Despite his sleepy appearance, Mark was equally alert, ready to catch his friend in case his knees buckled.

It wouldn’t have been the first time it happened, anyway.

The trio sat down at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall, and Mark immediately piled Jinyoung’s plate with light but nutritious meals. To his right, Bambam reached into his school robes and handed an emerald vial to Jinyoung.

“Grabbed this from your trunk earlier. You’re welcome.”

Jinyoung accepted the vial and smiled tiredly in thanks.

“Thank you, petal. I’m sorry again for missing our talk last night.”

“Stop talking already,” Mark interrupted with a glare. He signaled to the vial in Jinyoung's hand. “Drink that, then eat. Don’t speak to me again before ten in the morning.”

Satisfied after seeing his friend drink from the vial, Mark laid his head down on the table and nodded off.

The rest of their breakfast was a fairly peaceful affair, punctuated by the few brave souls that approached Jinyoung to exchange pleasantries with him, despite the slumbering dragon beside him.

A few moments later, the daily mail arrived in its usual flourish of screeches and feathers.

Bambam’s excited giggle hinted that he got a package from his mother in Thailand. Mark’s own care package, probably straight from the dragon sanctuary his parents kept, was neatly dropped beside his head

A copy of the Daily Prophet was left on Jinyoung’s lap unceremoniously, while a more familiar screech owl (the offspring of Hakyeon’s owl and thus affectionately dubbed sometimes as “Junior”) delivered a sealed roll of parchment directly into his hands.

(Interestingly enough, even the owls who crossed over the Slytherins steered clear of the mop of red hair on the table.)

Jinyoung threw a cursory glance at the Prophet’s headline (_Protests continue over “exclusion” of Muggleborns in top Ministry positions_) and offered a morsel of pastry to Junior, who nipped the proffered fingers affectionately before taking off.

Jinyoung examined the letter in his hands. The golden wax seal was clue enough but the crest pressed to the wax was unmistakable.

It was a letter from Jinyoung Park XIII – his father.

With a hint of trepidation, the Slytherin ripped the seal unceremoniously and quickly scanned the missive.

He skimmed over the perfunctory greetings and the usual tirade about keeping up his grades, avoiding trouble, and maintaining the good image of the Park family. There was also mention of watching over his cousin Jimin.

Jinyoung snorted at the reminder, something that he never really needed reminding as he loved _both_ of his cousins dearly.

The last part of the letter was a new addition, which immediately piqued his interest. It read:

> _On a final note, yesterday, Aerim Hwang from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement visited our summer home and requested an audience with me. Aerim is a colleague of your Aunt Sohee and an influential figure in the Ministry. As such, it is imperative that our good Pureblood family maintains amicable ties with hers, and her visit provided a perfect opportunity for you to foster this friendship on your own._
> 
> _Aerim made mention of a son named Hyunjin who has just started at Hogwarts this year. As an extension of our family within the walls of Hogwarts, it is your duty to make sure that young Hyunjin is well-liked and taken care of. Judging by their family history, the boy will most likely be a recent addition to the Slytherin House._
> 
> _You would do well to remember your duty as one of the namesakes of our honorable ancestor Jinyoung Park._
> 
> _Best regards,_
> 
> _Your father_

Jinyoung stared blankly at the closing salutation of the letter.

There was no mention of his poor health over the summer. Or any inquiry about his well-being, for that matter.

After his initial recoiling over the idea of requiring the aid of “Muggles, of all people,” the Park patriarch did not say anything else about the matter for the rest of the summer. Jinyoung was not really expecting his father to initiate conversation about that. But he also did not expect him to gloss over the matter of his health entirely.

Instead, he was essentially ordering Jinyoung to watch over a boy of eleven, all to maintain amicable relations with another Pureblood family.

His father had long been obsessed with strengthening their ties with the “right sort” of family, ever since the whole business with his divorce with Jinyoung’s mother happened. But this one really took the cake.

Bambam noticed him stilling beside him. "Something wrong? I mean, aside from the fact that your father is a huge prat?"

"No, it's nothing," Jinyoung answered with a grimace. "But I need to see Seokjin before I head to class."

"What would you need Seokjin Kim for? You guys already filled your quota of chitchat yesterday!" Bambam narrowed his eyes at him. "Is this a Hyunwoo Son incident again?!"

"What? _No!_ Hyunwoo was never even in the picture - "

" – Because that is just _sad_, Jinyoung."

Jinyoung glared at the younger. "This conversation never happened. I'm off to Potions." He gathered his things and climbed off the Slytherin table's bench.

"What am I supposed to do with Mark?!"

"Make sure he gets to class on time. And don’t be late for your class either.”

With a sweep of his gaze, Jinyoung spotted Seokjin sitting with his friend Namjoon at the Ravenclaw table. He made a beeline to the table filled with blue and bronze ties and scarves, bypassing some of the offers of breakfast from some of his Ravenclaw acquaintances.

He was entrusted with a task, albeit unwillingly, and he would do the thrice-cursed task well, overbearing fathers be damned.

*

After a short inquiry with Seokjin (who had glared at him for a bit, suspicious of his intentions), Jinyoung made his way down to the Potions dungeons for his first class that term.

He was a little excited after hearing that Madam Chaerin only accepted a handful of students that year, and he allowed himself a small moment to feel proud that he managed to get into that small circle.

Jinyoung was no stranger to his privilege.

As the heir of an elite Pureblood family, his success was often dismissed as a product of his father's influence over the school.

Truth be told, it irked him to be belittled like that. But he knew better than to let it affect him so much.

After all, _he _knew to himself that everything he had achieved was the result of back-breaking hardwork and the endless hours he put in his studies.

Those who knew him intimately might even say that he works too much. Jinyoung remained that he could never work hard enough.

His mother’s words would always loom over him.

_“You’re frail and sickly. You’ve always been that way since you were born. No child of mine could ever be lacking in any way, I won't have it,”_ were the last words she ever told him before she left them for good.

Words that still coloured everything that he did, no matter how much he wished they didn’t.

Jinyoung arrived at the Potions dungeons without much fanfare and entered the musty room. He found that he was quite early, so his friends weren’t there yet, but he proceeded to sit at the usual spot where his fellow Slytherins normally congregated.

The only other students inside the room was a Ravenclaw Quidditch player named Jinri, whom Jinyoung did not know outside of class except for Bambam’s occasional Quidditch diatribes, and another Ravenclaw named Wonpil, who was a familiar acquaintance because of their family’s long-standing friendship.

It took no time for Wonpil to wander over to his seat and engage him in pleasantries as they waited for the rest of the class.

Jaebeom and a few others arrived a few minutes later, and Jinyoung tried for a small smile as a greeting when their eyes met, but the Gryffindor was resolute in ignoring him – as to be expected.

Jinyoung tried not to let it get to him.

He was still chatting with Wonpil when Doyoung arrived. His bag made a loud thud as he set them down. Doyoung then turned to Jinyoung with an overly bright, almost feral smile.

“Tell me it wasn’t you who hexed me off my bed this morning, Park,” the newcomer greeted lightly.

Doyoung was one of his oldest friends, so Jinyoung took the passive-aggressive greeting in stride.

They were childhood friends, to be precise, friendship that came to be by virtue of their shared blood and societal status. Doyoung's bold familiarity was one accorded by the length of their acquaintanceship, different with the bond that Jinyoung shared with Mark and Bambam but no less precious. 

Jinyoung shot his conversation partner an apologetic grimace, who took the cue and returned to his seat with a casual wave of his hand.

“It wasn’t me who hexed you off your bed this morning.”

Doyoung sneered. He grabbed his satchel forcefully from the floor and took out a big leather journal filled to the brim with loose leaves of paper of different sizes and quality, sorting through them using an unidentifiable system as he spoke.

“_Of course_ it wasn’t you! No one in our House could hex nonverbally as well as Tuan! You and your Salazar-damned codependency!” Doyoung ranted. “Tell me at least that you spent the summer miserably reading while you laid in bed, thinking of all the fun Jisoo and I got up to without you.”

“That, I can tell you with confidence, did happen. I wish I could have gone with the two of you,” admitted Jinyoung with a wry grin.

“Well, you’ll be envious to know that we enjoyed ourselves immensely. Jisoo caught the eyes of literally everyone, and she's still as infinitely as tedious because of it,” Doyoung sniffed, waving a piece of paper to Jinyoung’s face.

Doyoung’s waving grew insistent so Jinyoung took it, and found that it was no simple piece of paper but rather a photo.

A photo of Jisoo and Doyoung, both smiling mischievously as they made faces to the camera, almost taunting yet still playful in essence. Behind them, Mount Fuji stood in its full glory. The three of them were supposed to go on an overseas tour that summer, an adventure made possible only by Jisoo's unwavering whims.

Jinyoung couldn’t help but smile fondly at their antics.

He was interrupted in his thoughts when his friend nonchalantly slid a sealed tumbler to him. He took it, puzzled, and glanced at the other boy.

“My brother is having a health-obsessed phase. Last Christmas, he was raving about this miracle juice that he’s been drinking to keep his energy up in ‘the most natural way.’ I owled him last week to send me some and the package arrived this morning.”

Jinyoung chuckled, oddly touched by the abrasively thoughtful gesture. “Careful, Doie, your concern for me might as well signal to everyone that you love me.”

Two more of their housemates appeared – Johnny Seo with Taeyong Lee in tow, who looked frazzled and slightly out of breath. He must have encountered some early troublemakers on the way and had to exercise his duty as prefect.

“Salazar, can’t believe I managed to secure a spot in Lee’s elite Potions class,” was Johnny’s cheerful opening.

“Your false modesty is considerably more annoying than if you gloated about it instead,” Taeyong grumbled. “Especially knowing how and why you got so good at Potions in the first place.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, ‘Yong,” Johnny sing-songed, serene smile still in place. “I guess you can’t possibly know too, or else you’d have given me detention already. Or worse, reported me for it. _Whatever it is_.”

Taeyong was referring to Johnny’s little “trade business” on the side, where he used his (considerable) expertise in Potions to supply a small but specific population of students with their Potions needs.

It had the potential to morph into an illegal drug trade, especially with the nature of his “goods,” but in reality, most of Johnny’s customers were just overzealous Ravenclaws trying to power through the day with a quick Pepper Up potion after barely sleeping for three hours.

It was a lucrative business and regardless of how Johnny managed it (Jinyoung honestly had no idea how), it showed no signs of slowing down or getting discovered by their professors.

Jinyoung's reservations over Johnny’s chosen trade had something to do with a beloved friend rather than the nature of his business. But that was a matter best left undisccused.

He turned to acknowledge the two, gearing for an opening to converse with Johnny about a favour – an idea that popped into his head after his conversation with Seokjin – but Madam Chaerin was already striding into the room.

Jinyoung settled for approaching Johnny after class instead.

* * *

Having been long used to Jackson's presence by his side, Jaebeom felt a bit lost as he ambled to the first class, since they were first-years until last year, that he did not share with his friend.

In spite of this, Jaebeom tried to maintain a positive outlook towards this year.

Of all the Gryffindors in their year, only three others made the cut aside from him: Seungyoon Kang, Taeil Moon, and Yuta Nakamoto.

He achieved what a huge fraction of his peers did not, and he knew that he should feel suitably proud of his achievement.

On the subject of friends: He was amicable with Seungyoon, who discussed Muggle music with him from time to time, so he felt secure that he had at least one friend in the class.

The only downside was the unavoidable presence of Jinyoung Park, consistent top student of their year, who was rumoured to have scored nine O's and a single E, falling only one O.W.L. short to the Greatest Witch of Her Generation, Hermione Granger.

When Jaebeom arrived at the Potions dungeon, a few students were already milling around inside. Jinyoung himself was sitting near the front, chatting with a Ravenclaw.

The Slytherin Prince sent him a friendly smile when their eyes met, which Jaebeom promptly ignored. He settled on an empty desk near the back and waited.

Ten minutes later, Seungyoon rushed inside and dropped unceremoniously beside him. The dungeon doors slamming shut followed suit and signaled the arrival of their professor as well.

Professor Chaerin Lee was a no-nonsense woman who commanded respect just by her presence.

She guided Gryffindor House with a firm but compassionate heart. She wasn't the type to hand out punishments left and right at every infraction, nor did she raise her voice at all. However, it was still unavoidable for people to be intimidated by her, as she was a prestigious and accomplished Potions Master at such a young age.

“Good morning, everyone. Welcome to the first session of Advanced Potions.”

She stood stoically in front of the classroom, ringed hands clasped together in front of her.

“As you might have heard from your peers, I decided not to accept students who have scored lower than an O on their fifth year O.W.L.s in this class,” she declared. She swept her gaze around the class, bright amber eyes scrutinizing them all. “I have decided to raise the bar higher for future and aspiring Potions Masters, and all of you made the first cut. For that, I commend all of you.”

There was a smattering of applause which halted the moment Professor Lee spoke again.

“Just as I chose to train only the most brilliant in your year, I expect that you will all perform greatly and beyond my expectations. For this to happen, we must also rearrange our classroom set-up into one that assures success regardless of arbitrary divisions such as Houses.”

At the last word, Professor Lee’s feline eyes snapped to Jaebeom’s. Cold dread filled the Gryffindor’s stomach.

A low buzzing erupted in the classroom after their professor’s announcement.

“I don’t think any of us is gonna like this,” Seungyoon mumbled beside him.

“Because of that,” Professor Lee continued, “it is my great pleasure to announce that we will employ a rotating schedule of pairings for class activities.”

The low murmurs accelerated into a mix of confused “What?” and groans of dread. The heavy pit in Jaebeom’s stomach turned leaden. Almost unconsciously, he turned from his seat to look at the Slytherin Prince a few tables away.

Jinyoung sat there calmly beside his housemate Doyoung Kim, who in turn was chattering agitatedly to Johnny Seo behind him.

Professor Lee clapped her hands and everyone instantly shut their mouths.

“This is an excellent opportunity to challenge not just your knowledge about theory and praxis but also your ability to deal with and adapt to unknown or unfamiliar ingredients in your brewing process – namely, your new partners.”

The gleam of challenge shone from her luminous eyes, but Jaebeom was already dreading the explosive effects of one potential pairing in the future. He was, of course, thinking of the dreaded event when he will be partnered with the Prince of Slytherin.

A hand flew up from the Slytherin’s side of the class – probably the last time that it could be considered as their “side” in a while.

“What is it, Mr. Kim?”

“What if we don’t work well with our assigned partnership?” asked Doyoung – the question that’s been running in everyone’s minds.

Professor Lee pursed her lips.

“Well, that is the challenge, isn’t it?” She turned and picked up a roll of parchment from her desk. “Now for your first set of partnerships, which I estimate shall be for the duration of two weeks…”

She began calling out pairs and reassigning their seats.

Jaebeom quietly groaned in annoyance. Beside him, Seungyoon clapped his shoulder sympathetically.

“Tough luck, Lim. I’m personally praying that you and Prince Peach don’t get paired up ever. You two would probably blow up the dungeons and take us all out, and I'm quite attached to my life, you know?”

“Prince Peach?”

“‘Peach’ as in Jinyoung? That’s their new favourite nickname for him at the moment.”

“Who’s ‘they’? And why would they call him that?”

Oddly enough, Seungyoon flushed at the question. “Um, you know, because of his… You know…”

Jaebeom, who _definitely did not know_, raised an eyebrow. The other Gryffindor reddened further and looked away for a bit, wiggling on his seat.

“Because of you know, his–” a lot more wiggling and Jaebeom’s increasingly confused expression, “–his _arse!_”

“Jinyoung Park and Jinri Choi, here at the third row,” rang Professor Lee’s voice, drowning out Seungyoon’s squeak.

Not that Jaebeom did not hear him, close as he was.

Unbidden, his gaze wandered to Jinyoung’s… backside which was hugged closely by form-fitting black slacks. The view was unobstructed as Jinyoung's discarded robes hanged from his arm.

“_Merlin, why would you tell me that?! I could have lived my life without having known that_,” Jaebeom hissed, flushing as well.

"_How is it my fault?! You _asked.”

“_Why do you even know about that?!_”

“I don’t know, mate. It’s an open secret among the upper years that Jinyoung returned the summer after our third year looking as pretty as Jisoo Kim!" At the incredulous look thrown at him, he shrugged, “I mean, he's not my type, but I can see the appeal. It’s one of the Muggle-born Seventh years who called him ‘Prince Peach,’ after that video game character? Except it was a princess, but they made it –”

“Yes, yes, I know the one,” Jaebeom cut in curtly.

He felt angry for some reason. Whether it was directed at Jinyoung or those unnamed seniors, he wasn’t sure himself.

“Jaebeom Lim and Johnny Seo, go sit at the back.”

Breaking out of his stupor, Jaebeom moodily picked up his bag and moved to the back after sharing a commiserating look with Seungyoon.

When he reached his assigned table, Johnny Seo was already there, although he was yet to be seated.

“Hey, mate. Do you mind if I take the seat near the aisle?” was the Slytherin’s odd greeting.

Not expecting the civility, Jaebeom only managed to nod and proceeded to slide in first. Johnny looked too happy that his request was granted, as he sat down beside Jaebeom. They did not speak again until their professor finished announcing the partner assignments.

After calling the last pair (“Doyoung Kim and Seungyoon Kang together”), the Potions Master faced the class again. With the wave of her bejeweled hand, a stick of chalk flew to the board in front and wrote: GOLPALOTT’S THIRD LAW.

“For N.E.W.T.-level classes, we will deviate from the established pattern of brewing potions straight from pre-made recipes and then writing an essay describing the process,” Professor Lee began.

She started to stalk around the circular classroom again as she continued to talk.

“I expect a lot more from you at this point in your studies. I expect independent and critical thinking because brewing potions is an art form. Because it is an art form, we must not simply replicate; we must also create. And to create, you will need a more fundamental understanding of the rules and principles that govern this art form.”

Jaebeom suppressed the urge to shiver when their professor stopped behind his and Johnny’s work table.

“So, who can explain to everyone here what Golpalott’s Third Law is all about?”

A hand immediately shot up.

“Yes, Miss Son?”

“Golpalott’s Third Law is about antidotes for blended poisons,” a Ravenclaw named Wendy answered confidently. “It goes, _'The counter for a blended poison is more than or beyond the combination of the antidotes of the individual poisons blended together to form the new one.'_”

“Excellent explanation. Ten points to Ravenclaw,” said Professor Lee. “But what does that mean? What’s the philosophy behind it? Fundamentally, what does it want to tell us?”

Silence reigned inside the classroom. It was the first time that a professor questioned the philosophy behind an established law or principle of magic, and no one knew how to answer that.

“It’s similar to the idea of ‘_Gestalt_’ or the ‘whole form’, which says that the whole form is other or different from the sum of its parts,” Jinyoung called out.

Heads turned to his direction. Beside Jaebeom, Johnny snorted, “Trust Jinyoung to pull out the fancy words on the first day of class.”

“Go on, Mr. Park. We’re listening,” encouraged the Potions Master. She had a glint in her eyes that resembled pride and satisfaction a lot. Jaebeom almost rolled his eyes at the Slytherin Prince’s showing off.

“The antidote for the blended poison, which is the _Gestalt _in this discussion, should not be deduced solely on the notion that a separate antidote can counter each particular component of the new poison. Instead, the idea is that there is no transferrable property that could simply reverse the effect of such poison because that would mean working with a wrongly-formulated equation.”

"Well-articulated, Mr. Park. Glad to hear that you have an amazing grasp of this concept. Fifteen points to Slytherin.”

With a swish of her robes, Professor Lee strode back to the front of the classroom.

“I hope that by the end of this session, you all possess the same level of understanding of this principle because this is important in many situations. In particular, the field of medicine.”

Jaebeom did not miss the odd look that she shot Jinyoung, but he dismissed it just as quickly, not wanting to think about the Slytherin further.

As their professor opened the discussion about complex antidotes, Johnny Seo pulled out a small leather-bound journal and began to scribble as well.

“I’ll get started on gathering the ingredients so you won’t have to get off your seat,” Johnny offered a few minutes later without looking up, still meticulously writing everything down on his journal. “Do you want to look over my notes while I’m gone?”

Jaebeom couldn’t hide the surprise that flashed in his face.

It was the first time that he had interacted with Johnny Seo and he originally did not have any idea how to act around the Slytherin. It was, therefore, a pleasant surprise to find that the other boy was civil and even amiable, as opposed to the sneering prat that Jaebeom expected him to be.

“If you’re going to get the ingredients, then I’m gonna get started with the set-up. Thanks, Seo.”

With a cool shrug, the tall Slytherin stood and headed to the ingredients cupboard, where he towered over their entire class. In no time, Johnny was back in their table, ingredients balanced in his arms.

Jaebeom moved to assist his partner and received a grateful smile in return.

“You seriously have some pretty detailed notes there, Seo,” Jaebeom remarked as he was crushing some porcupine quills.

That earned him a short cackle from his seatmate. “Yeah, no, that’s nothing. You should see how Taeyongie and Doie do theirs. It’s _mental_.”

“You guys might give the Ravenclaws a run for their Galleons.”

“Doyoung might, maybe, especially with how he and Jinyoung live more often in the library than in our dormitory.”

At the mention of the Slytherin Prince, Seungyoon’s “peach” comment flashed in Jaebeom’s mind again, making him falter a bit. If his partner ever took note of his slight slip, he made no mention of it.

The pair worked in relative silence, broken only when one of them reminded the other of an important instruction and ingredients.

Jaebeom was surprised to note that he and Johnny did not make a bad pair.

Johnny was calm and collected, as opposed to Jackson's habitual chatter when working. He maintained a pleasant working atmosphere; he made small comments about their classmates here and there, and at one point, even mentioned a formal party that they both attended last summer.

“Look at Krystal and Taeyong, though,” Johnny snickered some time later.

The Gryffindor followed the taller boy's gaze. He spotted the only pair in the class who both came from the same house, not that it gave them a leg up. It-girl Krystal Jung and handsome Taeyong Lee both looked sour-faced as they worked.

“I thought everyone in Slytherin liked each other.”

“Are you kidding me? Gryffindors don’t have a monopoly on the over-inflated ego market, you know,” Johnny replied playfully. “Besides, Yongie and Krystal have disliked each other ever since they became competitors for the prettiest face in Slytherin two years running now.”

“Wha–wait, that’s a _real _thing? The stupid competitions?”

Jaebeom had only heard about the infamous Slytherin House competitions in passing. Jackson casually mentioned once how a fight broke out between Seokjin Kim and Hakyeon Cha because of a "Mothers' Day competition, don't even ask," which was apparently part of their eccentric in-house games.

Apparently, Slytherins had too much time and money in their slimy hands so they made a stupid tradition to hold silly competitions among themselves.

This was the first time that Jaebeom was hearing about its particulars – or at least, part of it.

“Absolutely, mate. And we take it seriously too. It’s something to talk about when we write home or when we see each other in stuffy parties. Even Professor Kibum is in on the entire thing.”

Disbelief was written on the Gryffindor’s face.

“You lot must be _seriously _bored with studying, aren’t you?” Jaebeom muttered. “So why is it Taeyong Lee against the Krystal Jung? What happened to the other pretty faces in your House?”

As much as Jaebeom hated to admit it, the Slytherin House was not lacking in beautiful students. Personality and character aside, that is.

“Oh, we always do an elimination round every year. They always come out as the competitors in the final round. Plus, Jinyoung and Jisoo are forever banned from this competition because they get overly competitive," the Slytherin explained. "Joke's on everyone, though. My money is on Lisa Manoban snatching the title right under their nose in the wildcard round. Maybe next year, just to be sure."

“I mean… How competitive can beauty pageants even get?”

Johnny chortled, waving him off.

“There was an incident with a flesh-eating slug and another one with a hippogriff. Jisoo's the one who involved the hippogriff – that one still makes me laugh and cry at the same time. It got her banned from joining Slytherin House competitions, though. Oh, and detention, of course."

"And the flesh-eating slug? Was it Jinyoung, then?"

"Jinyoung's only banned because he's Jisoo's biggest enabler. Though we can never find solid proof, we all just voted him out of the prettiest face contest. But he still gets to join others; I have a Galleon on him giving Seokjn the funniest gag gift on his birthday."

Jaebeom gaped. “You’re mental. You Slytherins are real mental.” Then he burst into stifled laughter, mindful of the prowling lioness that was their teacher.

After that piece of gossip, the two of them returned to the task at hand, spirits lifted and the mood lighter.

*

Somehow, without realizing it, Jaebeom and Johnny were one of the first pairs to finish.

Professor Lee glided over to their desk with a stern expression.

She glanced at the contents of their cauldron for a second, then whipped out her wand to vanish the potion. She directed a small smile of approval to the pair.

“Excellent job, Mr Seo, Mr Lim. I’m glad to see exceptional professionalism and maturity from you two in this exercise. Ten points each to Gryffindor and Slytherin.”

Johnny grinned at Jaebeom and elbowed him when their professor had moved on. “You aren’t so bad after all, Jaebeom Lim.”

“Not so bad yourself, Johnny Seo.”

Once the rest of the class was finished with their potions, Professor Lee explained their homework (a 12-inch essay on the breakdown of the properties of each ingredient, and their contribution to the effect of the potion they brewed, by pair) before dismissing them. The unlikely duo started clearing their desk right away, as they worked out their workload and schedule for the assigned homework.

They were nearly finished when Jaebeom spotted someone bounding over to their direction.

He hastened his movements, suppressing the urge to groan in annoyance.

“Hullo, Johnny!”

Too late.

“Oh hey, Jinyoung! What’s up?”

“Nothing much,” replied Jinyoung, eyes crinkling as he beamed up to Johnny.

With his entire face lit up like that, Jaebeom couldn't help but admit that he could have been a real strong contender in that violent Slytherin beauty contest. Objectively-speaking, of course.

The thought was as disconcerting as the idea that Jaebeom spent an entire class period working with a Slytherin in amicable silence.

Jinyoung turned his gaze to Jaebeom. “Hello as well, Jaebeom.”

As unbothered as ever, Jinyoung did not take offense with the curt nod that he received.

“How was your summer, Johnny? I don’t think I saw you at the Summer Solstice party at Ten’s.”

Johnny laughed, hand at the back of his neck in embarrassment. “Ha! I didn’t think you’d notice. Yeah, my family went home to Chicago that week, so I missed it. I had to do a lot of groveling when I got back, though. It helped that I brought back some chocolates for Tennie.”

Jinyoung let out his own twinkling giggle, and Jaebeom’s jaw clenched in irritation. He tried to inch himself away from the conversing Slytherins, especially away from Jinyoung Park.

“That’s real nice of you, Johnny. Hey listen,” _there he goes, demanding everyone’s attention again_, Jaebeom thought darkly, “I was wondering if you remember the Winter Solstice ball hosted by the Ministry last year? The one where you asked me to keep your mother occupied while you were..._preoccupied _yourself.”

“Which my _friend_ and I are still grateful for, thank you again Jinyoung.”

“I’m sure you are, and I appreciate your thanks. But I actually have an idea of the favour that I'd like, and it’s just the most perfect one.”

“Sure,” the taller Slytherin agreed, “Name your price, Jinyoung.”

“You have a cousin from the first-years this year, right? I'm sure he's an absolute delight, but I realize that I haven't had the pleasure of introducing myself to him. So I’d like to set up an audience with him later, preferably after lunch? We can meet at the entrance of the Great Hall.”

“You’re cashing out your favor to meet _Cousin Changbin_?”

Johnny regarded Jinyoung disbelievingly, unable to comprehend the logic behind the peculiar request.

Jaebeom, for his part, couldn’t believe his ears. Jinyoung was asking Johnny to meet his cousin, to what? To introduce the kid to the rules of the Kingdom of Prince Jinyoung?

“If it’s okay with you!” Jinyoung hastily added. “I have a cousin of my own, you know my Jimin, and I know how protective us older cousins can get when it comes to the little ones. So I’m doing you the service of asking for your permission first. I’ll be glad to say a quick hello and let him go on his merry way after.”

“_Really_, Park? It’s only their second day and you’re already orienting the firsties on how to properly bow down to their prince?” he reacted snidely.

Jinyoung’s doe eyes turned to Jaebeom. Perhaps it was a trick of the light but he noticed that the Slytherin Prince's eyes dimmed a little. His wide grin suddenly seemed forced.

“Oh, nothing of the sort, Jaebeom. I just want to make sure that the little ones settle in nicely," assured Jinyoung. "I’m sure you know what it’s like to be the older cousin, what with you and Nayeonie. She's a natural-born leader, which makes her a fitting addition to our house if I may say so.”

Jaebeom sneered, “You _would _know. You’re the perfect snake. And leave Nayeon out of your superiority bullshit.”

Jinyoung’s sigh was almost theatrical. “I’d take what I can get and remember instead that you at least called me perfect.”

He turned back to Johnny, who had been watching the heated exchange with slight interest.

“You’ll remember to have young Changbin ready later? I intend to introduce him to a new friend, Hyunjin Hwang. His mother works in Magical Law Enforcement with my Aunt Sohee. Kids like him need to socialize as much as they can as early as now so they’ll have many friends to rely on.”

"Cousin Changbin and I aren't that close, though, not like you and Hakyeon or Jamie. But I can wrangle the little tyke later, sure," promised Johnny. "Might do him some good in the future."

With a final smile and a pat to the taller Slytherin's arm (and a more reserved smile directed to Jaebeom), Jinyoung hoisted his book bag higher and left.

“Interesting,” Johnny commented, eyes following Jinyoung’s form. His eyes snapped back to Jaebeom. “Really interesting.”

“Are you all contractually obligated to follow his every order? Are all Slytherins under some Unbreakable Vow to Jinyoung Park, sworn to eternal servitude?”

“Well, I wouldn’t call it ‘eternal servitude’. A lot of us are merely protective of Jinyoung. You should see how much the Seventh-years baby him, it’s scary.”

“Protective?" Jaebeom snorted. "Is that why I don’t have people lining up to hex me for being an asshole to him?”

An odd glint appeared in Johnny’s eyes, and the bright smile that he directed to Jaebeom did not feel friendly at all.

“It’s good that you’re aware that you’re an asshole to Jinyoung, at least,” he said. “If anything, you should at least remember this: You’re only safe for now because someone else is protective of you.”

*

Jaebeom’s mood did not improve for the rest of the day. He shared another class with Jinyoung that afternoon (Charms); luckily, Professor Nam did not have the same predilection in mental torture as Professor Lee. Jaebeom was thus safe to focus on the lesson, Jackson by his side, instead of obsessing over Jinyoung.

Over lunch, he recounted the suspicious conversation he overheard to his friends.

Jackson had dragged the Hufflepuffs over to the Gryffindor table to eat with them, complaining the whole time that he hardly saw the younger ones during breakfast, that Jaebeom was "too busy doing smart kid things with the other smart kids."

A lull in their conversation opened the floodgates.

"Don't you think it's _disgusting _how he blatantly manipulates people into recognizing his 'Divine Right' as their prince?" Jaebeom ranted. His food remained barely touched.

"Who?" asked Youngjae as he scooped more stew in his already full mouth.

Jaebeom ignored the question. "I mean, I guess it would've been fine if he kept that bullshit with the Slytherins. But I'm even more appalled that he even preys on poor unsuspecting first-years to do his bidding!"

Jackson and Youngjae exchanged a pointed glance. On the other side, Yugyeom was pushing around the mashed potato on his plate, head bowed and seemingly disinterested.

"Talking about Jinyoung again?" Youngjae commented evenly.

"Duh. Who else could get Jaebeom worked up like this?" answered Jackson. He brandished his butter knife like a wand, waving it around as he spoke further. "You know how fiery Jaebeom's loins – sorry, I meant his _temper – _gets about Jinyoung Park."

"Sod off, Jackson," Jaebeom hissed.

"I only speak the truth."

"How are you so sure that Jinyoung acts like he's the prince or something? You aren't even friends," Youngjae pointed out. "You actively avoid being in the same room as him for more than ten minutes, too."

"It's _exactly _the reason why I'm aware of his true nature. I'm not dazzled by the fake eye smiles and the niceties," Jaebeom insisted. He finally took a bite from his plate, overcome by hunger from the turn of the conversation.

Unlike Jackson and him, Youngjae did not share the absolute hatred that they felt for Jinyoung. Whether it was because of Hufflepuff traits or because Jinyoung used to be in the school choir with Youngjae, the younger remained fairly neutral over the entire conflict between their groups.

Although, it could've also been because the entire thing started before Youngjae (and Yugyeom) had entered the picture. Both their younger Hufflepuff friends simply just did not have the same level of emotional investment in their feud with Jinyoung and his posse.

"You have a really convoluted idea of what Jinyoung is like," the Hufflepuff prefect noted.

"Jackson and have known him a lot longer than you. I'm not exaggerating when I say I know the prat."

"I got to know him when I entered Hogwarts back in our first year, and he left a _lasting _impression, so to speak," stated Jackson. "I'm always gonna dislike the arrogant berk."

"And I've known him even longer than that," Jaebeom added with a shudder. "Can you imagine the amount of dirt I have on him? He's not as squeaky clean as you all make him out to be."

"I keep forgetting that you're childhood friends," admitted Youngjae.

"We're _not _childhood friends."

"But... Hakyeon used to always greet you a lot." Youngjae looked confused. "He seemed familiar with you, too. He talks about you with Jinyoung when he visits Taekwoon during choir practice."

Jackson leaned forward, interested. "Oh, is that so? What do they talk about?"

"He used to make outdoor lunch plans with Jinyoung, something about fresh air being good for him. Hakyeon always asked after you, you know? He kept suggesting to invite you for lunch 'just like old times'. Jinyoung just told him you had other friends now, you're too busy, blah blah."

For a moment, Jaebeom felt guilty. His little feud with Jinyoung had always seemed fairly disconnected from others. He forgot that their lives had already been closely-intertwined way before things escalated to this level. Never realized that hating Jinyoung came with cutting off more people than he initially thought.

"Our families are associated. It can't be helped," Jaebeom stated with a noncommittal shrug. "Hakyeon used to watch over the younger kids when there are Pureblood gatherings. Guess he knows me from there."

Jackson snorted. "Uh, Hakyeon Cha didn't just watch over your kid ass during parties. He used to babysit Jinyoung and took him on playdates with you."

Jaebeom's retaliating kick was quick and painful, as evidenced by Jackson's yelp.

"I'm never going to understand how complicated Pureblood families are," Youngjae sighed. "I thought my Muggle family already had enough drama, but you guys beat us by a long shot."

"Don't worry about it, Youngjae. I know, we're silly for being like this," Jaebeom murmured, patting the younger's head.

“Anyway, what did you say the firstie's name was?" Youngjae asked, quick to switch the topic.

"Hyunjin Hwang. Jinyoung said his aunt worked with the kid's mother, who asked him to watch over the kid. It’s an obvious farce that covers up –”

"I'm gonna cut you right there before you say something you don't mean," the Hufflepuff interrupted.

Jaebeom heaved a huge sigh. He made an effort to calm his temper and bit out: "Youngjae, I know you and Jinyoung bonded over choir a lot, and I'm not mad at you for that –"

"Ugh, _come on_, Jaebeom! It's such a small thing back then! You're the one who still makes a huge deal over it," Youngjae grumbled. "You're a lot worse than the first-years I'm handling right now, and they're _a lot_."

Jackson guffawed from his right, but the Hufflepuff was not finished yet. "And _you!_ You keep on egging him on and enabling the entire thing! I'm so tired of listening to Jaebeom complain every time Jinyoung breathes."

For his part, Jaebeom looked properly chastened.

“Aw, you precious _baby_,” Jackson cooed, “you don’t know anything yet. You see, Youngjae, when a boy has a hate hard-on for another boy, it usually manifests –”

“I don’t have a hate boner for Jinyoung Park,” Jaebeom snarled slowly, eyes flashing.

His anger was nearly palpable, but Jackson liked pushing his best friend’s buttons more than anybody else. Not that anyone other than him got away with pissing off Jaebeom Lim, that is.

“You say that _now_, but every time Jinyoung so much as exists in your general vicinity, you hiss at him like an adorable baby wyvern. You should really see how much you look at Jinyoung.”

It took copious amounts of self-control for Jaebeom not to lean over across the table and smash his best friend’s face on the plate of greens laid in front of him.

“You say that now but you hate Jinyoung as much as I do, Jackson, and I don’t go around saying you have a hate boner for the prat.”

"Oh, the thing between Jinyoung and I aren't about boners. The hate we have for each other and the gravity of the hate we share is mutual. _You_, on the other hand, only started this boner-fueled animosity –"

“Now you’ve done it,” Yugyeom suddenly complained, pushing away the plate in front of him. “I already don’t have much of an appetite for lunch but then you started talking about your dicks and now I’m about to hurl.”

Youngjae, overly concerned, reached over to touch the taller Hufflepuff’s forehead. “Everything okay, Gyeomie? I know you didn’t eat much during breakfast either. You feel a bit under the weather?”

“It’s because of his Care of Magical Creatures class,” Jackson pointed out solemnly. “He’s still traumatized by the frost salamander that nearly made him lose a finger. If it weren't for Jinyoung's psycho friend –"

"Can't we go back to talking about Jaebeom's boner for Jinyoung?" Yugyeom whined, blushing. "And it's not because of my Care of Magical Creatures class later. It's my nerves," he mumbled.

Jaebeom elected to ignore the slight and instead wrapped an arm around their group's unofficial baby in concern. "Do you want me to come with you to Madam Sunmi's before your next class? Say the word, Yugyeomie. We can ask her for a small dose of Draught of Peace or something."

The youngest only shook his head. "I'll be fine. Thanks, though." As if an afterthought, he added, "Hyunjin Hwang's not a Slytherin, though, if I'm not mistaken."

"Oh, that's right!" burst in Youngjae. "Now I remember why the name's familiar. Hyunjin's a Puffling, he belongs to us. I doubt that Jinyoung needs a Hufflepuff minion. Maybe he truly wants to introduce Hyunjin to some friends, you know."

"I can't imagine a fate worse than that," Jaebeom grumbled. "Will you at least do me a favor, Youngjae? One tiny favor?"

The Hufflepuff's sigh was long-suffering, but he still nodded in assent.

"Watch over Hyunjin Hwang for a bit, try to include him in any house bonding and such. And if you see any snake slithering near him, just… I don't know, look after him?"

"Jaebeom, it's literally my _job _to look after the Hufflepuff kids."

The older Gryffindor's eyes were rarely wide and imploring, so Youngjae bit back another sigh.

"Whatever. I'll tell you what I find out tomorrow."

Jackson clapped his hands. "Okay! Now that that bit is settled, it's time to go back to the issue at hand which is Jaebeom's obsession with Jinyoung Park. No, wait--!"

Jaebeom reached out to grip Jackson's neck, _hard_, and none-too-gently slammed his best friend's face into his overly healthy lunch. Jackson's answering whine and the subsequent guilt-tripping was more than worth the end of further discussion of Jinyoung Park.

* * *

"Jinyoung, where were you today? You missed how a really heart-warming drama unfolded over dinner!!"

The boy in question had just strode in the Slytherin common room right before curfew when his friend’s voice stopped him in his tracks, just about ready to climb up to the dormitories.

Bambam, who posed the question, and Mark were both waiting for him in the common room, seated at the armchairs situated at the corner while playing Wizarding chess between them. Around them, a few Slytherins were lounging casually in the common room, creating a hazy sort of relaxed atmosphere that characterized the Slytherin common room more often than not.

"Sorry, Bam. I was at the library with Doie, wanted to get a headstart on my D.A.D.A. essay as soon as possible. Professor Jung's expecting it a lot sooner than expected," Jinyoung explained wearily as he reached the pair in the corner.

"But it's literally the first day of school!" Bambam pouted.

Jinyoung rolled his eyes at his friend's dramatics, but he did reach out to ruffle the younger's blond hair fondly, eliciting a quick swat of his hand. Largely unbothered, he also bent down a bit to press a soft kiss on top of his head.

"You should still be resting because of that stupid shit you pulled, Park," Mark lectured with a short glare. He then turned back to the chessboard to order his white Knight to take Bambam's black Rook, smirking slightly in smug victory.

"No fair! I was distracted!" the younger Slytherin accused with a point of his jeweled finger. After making his counterattack with a determined set of his jaw, Bambam turned back to Jinyoung, who had just seated himself on the arm of Mark's chair.

"You missed the fun over dinner! A bunch of our little baby snakes made their way over to the Puffs' table to _badger_ and make friends with a little bee!"

He then proceeded to cackle loudly over his clever “quip,” briefly attracting the attention of their housemates before they all decided it was just Bambam being his normal self.

"Jinyoung didn't have to witness it – he was the one who orchestrated the whole thing for his new Hufflepuff pet project."

The blond's head snapped to Jinyoung's direction so fast he could have pulled a muscle. "How come _you_ get to have a pet? You both told me I can't have a Puffling pet when I asked for one two years ago!"

But Jinyoung wasn't interested to entertain Bambam's tantrum.

"How did you know about that? I haven't told anyone about the letter, and it's not like you were awake when I got it this morning."

"So something was up with that stupid letter!"

"I heard it from Seo during lunch. You weren't around then."

Jinyoung frowned. "You know I don't approve of your little side hobby with Johnny Seo."

"And you know I don't approve of your infatuation with Jaebeom Lim yet here we are."

"That's an entirely different conversation, Mark."

The two stared each other down, not quite upset but also not happy with each other.

Both topics were two things that they don't like discussing out in the open, only because of their unchanging opinion (that of disapproval) and by extension, the pointlessness of arguing about it in the first place.

Jinyoung knew it.

Mark knew it.

And Bambam, as their unofficial mediator, knew how to handle it.

"Hey, cut it out, you big babies," Bambam said with a little more force than his normal cheery tone. "If Mark needs a little boost every day to make living with a bunch of idiots a little bit bearable, then we can't really fault him for that, can we? And it's a lot better than getting him dependent on alcohol, right?"

"Silver linings, huh," muttered Jinyoung.

"And Mark, you know that if Jaebeom Lim weren't already spoken for, I'd totally tap that! Rumor has it, the Boy-Who-Lived himself came to town to bless him with his strapping good looks when he was born,” the blond lectured, waving his hand slightly, “He looks damn fine and he knows it. His mullet knows it.”

The eldest of the trio did not bother hiding his grimace. “By Salazar, you are relentless.”

“Kinda makes you wish for the good old days when he was barely fifty pounds soaking wet, huh?” offered Jinyoung, bright eyes teasing. “Remember the time when he thought it was a wonderful idea to dye a strip of his hair that horrid fuschia color?”

Mark guffawed at the memory, and just like that, the tension was broken.

“You both love me, either way,” the blond-haired boy sniffed, opting not to bite the bait.

“I thought you hated the mullet, Bam,” Jinyoung asked, faux curiosity obvious in his wide eyes.

“Oh please, spare me. You love it so much you’d never take into account what I’d say about it anyway. And besides, I called it ‘criminal’; I never said I hated it.”

As if hoping for a final say in the matter, Mark muttered under his breath, “The day Jinyoung gets sick of Jaebeom Lim, I might actually want to get out of the dorm entirely sober.”

“You don’t actually mean that, do you, Mark?”

The smile on Jinyoung’s face was pleasant enough, eye smile crinkling in place. But his best friend knew better.

Mark simply sighed and rolled his eyes, but refrained from adding anything else.

Bambam, ever the mediator, was quick to wrangle the conversation back to safer topics.

“Hey, you never did clarify how you made the little snakes approach that Puffling.”

“Or why, for that matter.”

“Oh, that. It’s nothing. Father just mentioned that a family friend needed someone to watch over the kid, so I went and introduced myself after lunch. I figured bringing a new friend or two wouldn’t hurt as well.”

“So that’s why Seo was involved?” Mark noted, thoughtful.

“What? I don’t get it.”

“One of the firsties involved was Johnny Seo’s cousin. He mentioned it to me in passing.”

“Mark’s right,” Jinyoung confirmed. “I couldn’t think of anyone from Hufflepuff who owed me, and I don’t personally know any first year this year. But then I remembered Johnny owed me a favor, so.”

“So nice of you to promote inter-House relations, Jinyoung,” Bambam cackled. “You could have easily asked Youngjae Choi since I heard he was made prefect and all that.”

It was Mark’s turn to scoff. “You know how that would turn out, especially if Lim and Wang were within hearing distance.”

Jinyoung’s rueful smile already spoke volumes.

“And judging by the encounter you had over Potions, I’d say it was a smart move on your part to forget about asking Youngjae Choi for help,” the redhead added, angry again at the reminder of what his fellow Slytherin relayed to him.

“Johnny should really learn to keep things to himself.”

“Hey! Stop talking about things that I have no context of!”

Bambam flared up from the other armchair, leaping indignantly to the sole armchair that his friends shared. It was a tight fit, and both Jinyoung and Mark protested loudly, elbows and knees hitting unfortunate places.

The small scuffle between the trio of friends did not go unnoticed by the other Slytherins in their common room, but everyone knew better than to comment, already used to their antics.

While the rest of Hogwarts admired or feared Jinyoung and his friends, the entire Slytherin House knew better.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay with this one, I got a new job and I have some life matters to attend to. I can't promise a specific update schedule yet, but we'll see.
> 
> Tell me what you think. <3
> 
> I am liminalsp-ces on Tumblr! I will post updates, sneakpeeks, and rants about writing this on that space. xx


	3. corvus oculum corvi non eruit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A crow does not pick at the eye of another crow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dumping this all on you after making you wait.

Two weeks after the start of the term found Jinyoung lounging indulgently in the Slytherin dormitories with Mark.

Their last lecture for the day was a joint Transfiguration class with the Ravenclaws, which ended a few hours ago. Returning to their common room together, he and Mark found it nearly deserted, most students still in class or at the castle grounds to enjoy the last days of warmth and sunlight.

Mark had suggested napping at the dormitory, as he was wont to do whenever he had free time. He was a lot like a cat in so many ways, despite his adamant insistence that cats were the bane of his existence.

(Mark showed he cared by doing and saying the opposite of what he meant.)

Jinyoung surprised his friend when he readily agreed and even dragged Mark to the staircase.

“I usually have to resort to underhanded tactics to get you to wind down before midnight,” Mark commented idly as he lounged on top of Jinyoung’s bed covers. “And now you’re in bed at four in the afternoon.”

Understanding Mark Tuan came with its trials and pitfalls. He was short with his words and expected people to fill in the gaps where his words did not quite deliver his meaning, and in the years since they had become friends, Jinyoung had grown to be well-versed in what he and Bambam dubbed as “Tuanese”.

“I just feel like I missed you lot over the summer, s’all,” he mumbled, attempting at nonchalance.

Half buried beneath his velvet quilt, Jinyoung didn’t bother looking up from reading a battered paperback that had absolutely nothing to do with his classes.

It was a secret guilty pleasure that Jinyoung had picked up when he was confined at home during the summer break.

“Missed us over the summer? Really now?”

Jinyoung sighed. “All right, you got me. I feel a little faint as well, but it’s nothing.”

Mark did not respond to Jinyoung’s honest admittance, but he did burrow his head closer to the other’s hip—a wordless gesture of affection that was the norm for their friendship. Jinyoung’s right hand immediately shifted to gently card his fingers through the mop of red hair.

“Professor Yang had offered me a spot in his Herbology master apprenticeship,” Mark whispered a few moments later, trying to muffle his words, but Jinyoung heard his friend loud and clear.

“Are you having me on? That’s _brilliant_! Congratulations!” he exclaimed, closing his book and turning to his friend fully. “We should definitely celebrate! Wow! That’s really brilliant, Mark! That’s practically _high praise_ coming from _Yang_—”

“I didn’t answer him yet.”

“Why not? You ought to have said yes already!” returned Jinyoung indignantly. The redhead merely shrugged, eyes averted. “Say yes, you fool. It’s a wonderful offer!”

“I know that, but…” grumbled Mark. “…Nevermind. It’s stupid.”

“Whatever you wish to say, I’d never think you’re stupid.”

Mark sighed. “I just keep wondering… The sanctuary, I loved that place as a kid, still do. For the longest time, I never thought about anything other than taking over my father’s place. But now…”

“Mark, listen to me,” Jinyoung said, eyes fierce. “I know you already know this, that you don’t need to hear this from me. But I will say it, either way, in case it slipped your mind for a moment.”

He threw the book on his hand to Mark’s neatly made bed and laid down beside his friend, facing the red-haired boy. “You are not, and you will never be defined by the circumstances of your life. Only you can measure your true worth. People who matter can only confirm it, but they shouldn’t get to decide what you’re worth or what you can or cannot do.”

“…I know that. Thanks.”

“The sanctuary is, and will always be a lovely place. And you will always have a place there. You don’t have to overthink that, darling.”

Mark sighed. “It’s just a passing fancy, either way. The apprenticeship, 's a brilliant offer. I couldn’t ask for a better one.”

“You’re my best mate. I always want the best for you. Now if you need me to constantly remind you—”

Mark’s nose scrunched up. “You're getting sappy again, Park.” The red-haired boy shoved his palm to Jinyoung’s face, who whined in complaint but giggled at the same time.

“Should’ve been a ‘Puff. I always say that, but people could hardly believe me every time I do.”

“If I had been placed in Hufflepuff, then you wouldn’t have been my best friend, would you?”

“Ugh. Stop it, sap.”

“You _love_ it!” Jinyoung protested in mock affront.

“Bambam does, but you know how much the brat thrives on people doting on him,” Mark retorted.

“Prat.”

“‘Puff.”

“That’s not even an insult! Hufflepuffs are hardworking and loyal!”

“You’re right—you’re not fit to be in Hufflepuff,” agreed Mark, “You tend to go beyond ‘hardworking’ and straight to ‘overworking’.”

“I don’t overwork myself,” Jinyoung denied petulantly, but Mark only snorted in response.

The pair naturally grew silent again, content together without needing words to connect them.

“Hey, have you given thought about what you want to do after all this?” Mark asked a few minutes later. 

The question gave Jinyoung pause.

It wasn’t that he and Mark never ventured towards discussions about the future, their future. But as Purebloods, there were certain “safety nets” already in place ever since they were conceived in their mothers’ aristocrat wombs. There was no _urgency_ to decide or panic about it, or fear of never “making it”.

It was a type of certainty that their status afforded them, something they were all too aware of. 

In Mark’s case, his family had always been working with dragons since time immemorial. He had an abundance of cousins who were dragon tamers, dragonologists, and keepers of dragon sanctuaries. In fact, his father owned and managed a dragon sanctuary himself—a sanctuary that Mark could inherit both in title and function anytime in the future.

Jinyoung himself had an abundance of choices.

He had a considerable “leg up” compared to his peers due to his family background, and an indisputable record of his stellar academic performance to back him up. He could breathe at any potential career track’s direction and everyone would have clamoured to invite him over to their side.

Despite all that, Jinyoung merely settled with a shrug and said, “You know that it will never be a problem in the future. I have options. I think I might be fine with that for now.”

“Jinyoung Park and _options_—doesn’t seem like you, Sir I-Do-Things-Deliberately-And-With-Intent.”

“I don’t even _want_ to think about anything else other than my day-to-day affairs. I mean, you might have been right when you said I tend to overwork. But in my defence, I have been meaning to keep my options open, I suppose. And—”

“You also tend to run your mouth when you have something to say,” Mark interrupted smoothly, “except you never actually say what you want in the end.”

Jinyoung closed his mouth with an audible click.

Silence reigned again between the two friends, as Jinyoung contemplated on his friend’s remark.

The topic of the future—well, he had a lot to say, that was true. But there was also a lot that Jinyoung did not even want to acknowledge for fear of many things: uncertainty, failure, and permanent endings. 

“Say, I noticed that Lim’s been sneaking glances at you all week. Doesn’t have a subtle bone in his body, does he?”

The topic was apropos to the previous one, but Jinyoung was not surprised that Mark had noticed and chose to comment on it. Mark never really pushed beyond what his friends were comfortable with, as it was Bambam, cheeky brat that he was, who loved to push everybody else’s buttons. But he had his own way of pulling out information, often confessions, from his friends (especially Jinyoung).

Jinyoung just wasn’t sure if the new direction of their conversation—and it was a redirection, after all—was something he wanted to discuss.

“He overheard me when I was cashing in a favour with Johnny Seo, remember?” Jinyoung shrugged. Then, with a chuckle, he continued, “And I don’t think Gryffindors would recognize subtlety even if it hit them right in the face.”

Mark snorted. “They’d probably hit back, the utter idiots.”

“Hush now, Mark. You know I don’t want to encourage that kind of stereotyping,” Jinyoung admonished lightly.

His friend sighed but did not comment further. Instead, Mark shifted his focus back to the topic at hand. “You know what I meant when I mentioned Lim’s unsubtle arse. You should be more careful.”

“It’s nothing new, isn’t it?” Jinyoung said wryly. “He is just as sodding suspicious of me as he was when we were little. Hasn’t had enough evidence to expose the Dark wizard that he’s been accusing me of, has he?”

“You know I’m not going on about his obsession with your being a Dark wizard,” Mark easily countered.

“To be quite honest, sometimes it’s just so funny—their idea of what a Dark wizard is, what constitutes the Dark Arts. They’re all just so...adorably _naïve_,” Jinyoung said, mouth twisting in a sardonic smile. “If they really knew—”

“Was talking about your infatuation with him, to be quite specific myself.”

Jinyoung paused. “You do know that I’m not actually _in love_, darling?”

He cocked his head to the side at Mark’s judging look and nodded, “I admit to a little bit of obsessive pigtail-pulling, but only because his righteousness in all its blazing glory always gives me a bit of a laugh at the end of the day. And, you know, I’d loathe to leave him and Wang alone, _Salazar-forbid_—”

“Are you, really?”

“Am I what?”

“Not in love with Jaebeom Lim.”

Jinyoung only sent him a glare in response.

Mark heaved a sigh, “Look at him deny it when just yesterday you couldn’t stop craning your neck at the Great Hall to look at his stupid mullet.” Then, without any preamble, he continued, “Sometimes, I find myself agreeing with Bambam that the two of you should just go ahead and shag each other.”

It was meant to be innocuous, but Jinyoung’s face flamed either way.

“_Mark!_” shouted Jinyoung, face warming. “You can’t possibly think that!”

“Oh, trust me, sometimes I really I do,” assured Mark with a straight face.

“You-You, you _loathe_ him!” Jinyoung protested, hitting his face with a pillow.

“I didn’t say _I’d_ shag him, did I? At least, if you manage to shag the prat, then you’d finally be a little more consistent with what you say versus what you actually feel.”

Before Jinyoung could even think of an appropriate response, the door to their rooms were flung open.

“Ugh, my life is officially _over_!” cried Bambam, throwing himself face-first to Mark’s otherwise unoccupied bed. Jinyoung only managed to cast a quick _Accio_ in the nick of time, saving his well-worn paperback from getting crushed and crumpled by the newcomer.

Bambam screeched and whined dramatically, throwing a small tantrum of sorts by mucking up his friend’s pristine bed.

“Oh, what is it this time, petal?” sighed Jinyoung, all too used to Bambam’s theatrics.

He decided to turn back to his novel, remembering how absorbed he was with the growing plot before Mark sprung his question out of the blue. He also did not want to give his friend any more chance to prod at the Jaebeom Lim matter.

_Circe, he is way off with his read on the situation I almost had a heart attack for real_, Jinyoung thought to himself.

He was quite sure that Bambam could handle a little neglect, just until he reconnected back with the pace of the story— 

“Strait-laced, stuffy gits,” complained the blond-haired boy. He kicked off Mark’s bed covers and pillow for good measure.

Apparently, Bambam meant: _Pay attention to me_ now. (Like he always did.)

“Oi, you better make my bed after you’re done with the drama,” Mark admonished.

The youngest merely ignored him. “Can’t even enjoy hexing arrogant tossers without gracious prefects swooping in to hand out detentions like sodding market coupons. Really, they act like a little fun warrants a sentence in _bloody Azkaban!_”

This time, Jinyoung did set down his book. He even removed his glasses for good measure.

“_Bamie_, what did you do?” Jinyoung questioned slowly.

In a single bratty kick, Bambam took off his shoes—expensive and haute couture dragonhide, probably handcrafted by masters of the trade from the continent, if Jinyoung guessed right. The blond curled up into a small ball with a petulant huff.

“Well," Bambam trailed off, "You both love me unconditionally, right?”

“I’d say it depends on the day and my mood,” Mark began, finally emerging from his makeshift nest as he sat up beside Jinyoung. “Sometimes it hasn’t got to do with anything. You’re just unbearably insufferable some days, quite frankly.”

The blond-haired boy kicked a fuss some more. “You can’t say rubbish like that to me! I’m emotionally _vulnerable_!”

“You’re a sociopath, so you’ll have to excuse me if I don’t trust your claims about what you feel.”

“Jinyoungie, Mark is being mean to me again!” 

“What is this all about Bambam?” Jinyoung pressed, wrangling the conversation back to the topic at hand.

“Latte has committed the ultimate act of _betrayal_!” cried Bambam as he sat up. “I saw the two-faced beast making nice with Jaebeom Lim’s cat this morning, would you believe the audacity of that, that, th—”

“That harlot?” Mark supplied rather dryly.

Bambam threw him the last pillow on the elder’s bed. “You’re not taking me seriously!”

Mark did not have the decency to look contrite. “Spare me, would you? Jinyoung waxes poetic enough about Jaebeom Lim’s tasteless mullet. I’ve just learned to make peace with it.”

“I haven’t even mentioned it more than twice!” protested Jinyoung. Belatedly, he added, “And I don’t wax poetic about Jaebeom Lim or his mullet!”

Mark only looked at Bambam with a raised eyebrow, as if to say, _See? I told you_. Jinyoung grumbled but did not speak up again.

“Look, if your cat is attracted to Lim’s cat, there’s no helping it. Look at it this way. If Jinyoung, a supposedly rational and level-headed individual—smartest wizard in our generation, mind you—if he is still attracted to Jaebeom Lim after all these years, who are we to judge your beast of a cat?”

“Latte is _not_ attracted to that cat! They’re both—”

“I _never_ said I was attracted to Jaebeom—” 

“_Spare me_, I said. Both of you,” Mark rolled his eyes.

Bambam growled. “They’re not lesbian kitties! Now you’re just making fun of me!”

Mark did not reply, but from his vantage point, Jinyoung could see the gleam of mischief in his best friend’s eyes, which meant Bambam’s accusation was true.

“All right, settle down, petal. We won’t be making disparaging remarks about Latte’s sexuality anymore,” Jinyoung placated. 

“The question is, how did you know that Latte was cosying up with Lim’s cat? And why was there hexing?”

Mark, ever the perceptive one, did not miss how Bambam did not answer Jinyoung’s original question.

“Whatever. I’ll just have to make sure that Latte stays away from people who aren’t family, which means the two of you and Cousin Lisa and Cousin Tennie,” Bambam waved off.

“Bambam, what’s all this about?” Jinyoung tried again.

Instead of answering directly, the blond just grumbled. “Just thought it would be nice to start the term with a laugh, is all.”

Jinyoung groaned, “Bamie! I thought I told you not to bother the prefects so much this year! Seokjin and Seulgi are both dead serious—”

Beside him, Mark snorted and rolled his eyes. “Let’s be real here, Jinyoung. Do you even know Bambam at all? He _lives_ for attention.”

“Hey!” protested Bambam. “I do it for a good laugh, not just for that.”

“Salazar and Circe, you are _incorrigible_,” Jinyoung sighed. “What is it this time? I suppose you’d never settle for something small, inconsequential?”

“Jinyoung, _seriously_. Have you ever known me to settle for nothing close to grandness?”

Bambam paused for a moment and went on, “I was in Paris this summer with Cousin Lisa, right, and you know Cousin Lisa—she’s all so bright and _bubbly_ most of the time, and she’s _ridiculously_ happy and kind.”

“What does that have to do with—"

“But she was placed in Slytherin for a reason, right, I mean she has no mean bone in her but her _mind_! Sometimes she has the most brilliant ideas, and I don't say this lightly because Cousin Ten is a bonafide genius…"

"Salazar Slytherin, the mouth on him," Mark muttered.

"Anyway," Bambam raised his voice over Mark's, "she might have inspired today's events with a flippant comment…”

"You give me no choice here, petal. Remember that you pushed me to employ this underhanded technique…" Jinyoung made a show of pulling a huge breath. "_Kunpimook_."

The effect was instant.

Bambam quickly scrambled off Mark’s bed to dive straight to Jinyoung’s face with the pillow he had been hugging. “_Stop right there! Do not use that terrible name! This is a war crime!_”

The resulting scuffle of three (mostly) grown boys on Jinyoung’s bed lasted for about three minutes, limbs flying all over the place and elbows hitting the most unfortunate of places.

The poor bed stood no chance.

“Well, this is certainly dignified,” Jimin’s high and clear voice, amused, rang from the doorway.

All three, dishevelled heads turned simultaneously to her direction.

“Jamie!” Bambam squealed, hastily disentangling himself from the pile, to jump and embrace the newcomer.

Jinyoung grumbled and kicked Mark for good measure, who only grunted and rolled his eyes, mouthing, “How mature,” to his friend.

“Been long, hasn't it, rat,” Jimin greeted her friend good-naturedly.

“_Rat_? My strapping good looks and I get called a _rat_?” moaned Bambam dramatically.

“Merlin, let me live,” Mark groaned. Beside him, Jinyoung snickered.

“To what do we owe the pleasure, then, Jamie Park? Why did you brave the perilous halls of the boys’ dormitory?” Bambam sniffed. "Do you need anything? Perhaps a quick consultation with Slytherin's finest fashion icon?"

“Oh, I’m here to drag Cousin Jinyoung off to dinner. Thought someone might have to remind him about sustenance being a thing, again,” replied Jimin cheekily.

From the bed, Jinyoung rolled his eyes. “I am no invalid, petal. You ought not to speak to your darling cousin like that.”

“We have yet to see proof, dear cousin,” Jimin retorted. She turned back to Bambam, “Brilliant idea, by the way. I passed by the Gryffindors' corridor and what you did there? Simply inspired. I could _smell_ it even from outside."

"At this point, I've completely lost interest with what Bambam did. I am going down for dinner," announced Mark, as he slid off the four-poster bed. He bent to slip on his shoes, eyeing the mess that Bambam had made on his bed and choosing to ignore it.

"I'll see you at dinner, Jinyoung, ta," Mark bid.

Jimin straightened up and said, "Oh, I'll go with you. I've delivered the message and I expect Cousin Jinyoung has received it quite well."

The pair exited the boys' dormitories together, leaving the last two alone.

Bambam climbed the bed and sat side-by-side with Jinyoung, cuddled up close to the elder male.

"Don't make me ask again, darling. Tell me what happened and what you want," Jinyoung said sternly.

Bambam pouted, "I never even mentioned that I wanted something!"

"I am well-versed with the meanings of your theatrics. You didn't have to say anything."

"If that's the case," Bambam said, eyes wide and imploring, "would you _please_ be a real darling and ask Seokjin Kim to lift my detention this weekend? Better yet, you can just ask him to reschedule, I don't mind owning up to what I did. It was brilliantly executed, after all."

"Circe help me," muttered Jinyoung. "What is so important this weekend that you need me to bail you out of detention? In the first place, you shouldn't have gotten caught, honestly."

"I have a _thing_! I can't miss it or else I'd be better off going home back to Thailand, dreams pulverized!" Bambam cried.

"And you can't be more specific about this _thing_?"

"It's a matter of my _future_, Jinyoungie! You want me to be a successful icon in the future, right? A star, a diva, a—"

"All right, all right! I’ll try to talk to Seokjin!" Jinyoung interrupted, elbowing his friend. "By Salazar, you are impossible."

He heaved a huge sigh and ran a hand through his hair, suddenly drained. Jinyoung now felt how much time had passed since his last meal. “Why pull a prank now, though? I don't see much merit or motivation for you. You didn't even enlist Ten's or even Mark's help.”

Bambam hummed, carefully examining his nails. “A little bird told me what Jackson sodding Wang said on the train, is all.”

Jinyoung was quiet, pensive.

“I might find it cute and shit like that how you’re so obsessed with Jaebeom Lim,” the blond continued, ignoring Jinyoung’s protesting groan, “but when he or his merry little band of buggers step out of line, I won’t stand for it. I’ll _never_ stand for it.”

“Bambam,” Jinyoung sighed, but the other turned to face him, face suddenly ablaze with fury.

“No!” snarled Bambam, “You’re _family_, and I will always protect family. You already let them get away with so much! If it were up to me—"

"It's a good thing that I'm in charge, then, petal," Jinyoung said with a smile.

His friend frowned, then pouted, earlier tantrums forgotten. "You're making fun of me," whinged Bambam. “I’m not that wee firstie that you drew out of the wardrobe in the Slytherin dormitories back then, y’know.”

“I am, a little bit,” Jinyoung admitted with a grin, “And I reckon you’d always be a baby in my eyes.”

“I’m grown, now! I should get to decide what's okay and what's not!”

“Well, you ought not to let the little things get to you. You've a temper, and it isn't so bad when you let the inconsequential things pass,” Jinyoung hummed. He brushed a comforting hand on his friend’s mop of blond hair to soften his words.

Bambam sighed dramatically, preparing to climb off the bed.

"Well, I'm starving. That's not _nothing_, is it?" he snarked.

“Sarcasm is a weak man's weapon, Bambam. Don't rely on it too much when I know you’re capable of delivering better.”

Jinyoung got off his bed as well, tucking the book safely back in his ornate trunk. Perhaps he might still have a little bit of time after dinner to indulge. Bambam was already waiting by the open doorway when he straightened up, so he strode there and accepted Bambam's easy affection in the form of a proferred hand.

Hand in hand, the pair went to the Great Hall for dinner. 

* * *

Jaebeom Lim considered himself a fairly upstanding student at Hogwarts.

Compared to other students, at least, he rarely got himself in trouble with the teachers.

He turned in satisfactory work and kept up with his studies quite well. He wasn’t the top student in their year (unfortunately, nobody had ever had the honour of unseating Jinyoung Park five years running now), but Jaebeom liked to believe that he was still fairly above average. He had never fallen behind in his lessons, after all.

And despite the Gryffindors’ known tendencies to be arrogant and bullheaded, Jaebeom was also not prone to random bouts of petty pranks. He rarely felt the urge to make fun of others, whether for a simple laugh and certainly not for the sake of cruelty.

Growing up, principles like honour and justice were instilled in him at a very young age, lectured constantly by his grandfather about doing the just and moral thing. He grew up being constantly reminded that magic was a privilege, something that should never be used to deliberately injure another person.

For all that Jaebeom loved him, the same could not exactly be said for Jackson.

Not to say that Jackson had a mean streak in him, no.

It was more that Jackson was naturally mischievous and playful, sometimes even devious. And unfortunately, as Jackson’s “bestest and greatest friend ever”—his exact words, not Jaebeom's—Jaebeom often found himself the unwilling (sometimes unknowing) accomplice to some of his best friend’s pranks.

This time was no different, especially with the recent “gift” that Jinyoung’s posse had left at the Gryffindor common room, specifically tailored for Jackson.

The smell had lasted for _days_, and even the professors themselves couldn’t suppress their wincing whenever they caught a whiff of Jackson’s _aroma_ during classes.

(Even Jaebeom himself, despite being Jackson’s “bestest” friend, couldn’t help but cast a protective bubblehead charm around him at night, curtains around his bed drawn, just so he could sleep peacefully.)

With the Slytherins’ recent attack still fresh in their minds (and the smell was indeed fresh), it was only to be expected.

Jackson’s retaliation, that is.

The first wave came immediately the day after, in a fairly empty corridor near the Slytherin dungeons.

Jackson had sent a quick _Diffindo_ to Jinyoung’s direction, boldfaced and smirking in smug satisfaction. The Slytherin had been in a hurry then, looking harried as he rummaged through his heavy schoolbag (hence why he failed to see the attack).

Jackson liked to be methodical when he played pranks. He did not do them in grand, elaborate shows, no. He did things in stages, well-targeted and increasing in degree.

(This laser-sharp focus could do him some good if only Jackson applied it somewhere else other than setting up pranks.)

At the time, Jinyoung did not return fire, too busy scrambling for his fallen possessions.

But a nasty hex from Mark _had_ come. And the prat did not even have to move an inch—he just kneeled there, helping Jinyoung with his things, wand in hand. He didn’t even utter a single incantation. He just looked at Jackson then, looking like the entire human race bored him out of his mind.

Since then, it’s been an ordeal to get through the week.

Jackson was talking to a pretty Ravenclaw in their year named Seungwan when he suddenly vomited slugs like projectiles with every _syllable_ that he uttered. Utter chaos erupted around them, with Seungwan’s hysterical screaming and Jackson’s profuse apologizing—which only resulted in his spewing more projectile slugs.

During breakfast the following day, Jinyoung was unable to take a single bite of his breakfast since the cutlery melted every time he brought them near his mouth. Jackson’s guffaws echoed around the Great Hall, unable to help himself.

(The entire thing only backfired when a gaggle of _well-meaning_ Slytherin girls volunteered to hand feed Jinyoung his meals. To Jaebeom’s disgust, Jinyoung had pretended to demurely decline for a minute before giving in right away, accepting a morsel of cold cut meat from a particularly chatty housemate.

That particular round lasted until breakfast the next day, when Jackson, annoyed by the turn of things, undid the spell himself.)

For the entire week, the prank war went on—Jackson’s plans getting increasingly creative, always at Jinyoung’s expense. Mark and Bambam were sometimes caught in the crossfire, but Jinyoung’s role as Jackson’s target was constant—the same way that retaliation never came from Jinyoung himself.

There was an incident involving a nest of winged snakes that terrorized the Gryffindor dormitories for two days (Jaebeom could still feel the ire of sweet-faced Jennie Kim, who was the unfortunate prefect who had to respond to the shouts of panic). Jackson struck back by causing a minor explosion in one of the castle’s halls, which somehow dyed Mark’s and Bambam’s skins green (a horrible contrast to their dyed hair).

All throughout, Jinyoung never lifted a finger, never uttered a word except a counter-spell or two. After all, his lapdogs, Mark and Bambam had it covered.

And it had always been that way since they were children, even before the part-Veela foreign kid, even Youngjae and Yugyeom, arrived at Hogwarts.

Jackson had always directed his more vicious pranks at Jinyoung, who only smiled serenely at them, confident that Mark (and eventually, Bambam) has his back covered. Quite literally, at times.

So when Jaebeom stepped out of the Potions dungeons that day (after hastily wrapping up an interesting conversation with Johnny Seo), and he spotted Jackson waiting in the hall, he knew right there and then that this was probably the “climax” that he had been anticipating (dreading).

“Jaebeommie!”

Jackson was quick to sling an arm around his friend’s shoulders, grinning excitedly.

Jaebeom did not like the look on Jackson’s face.

“Merlin, is it already time for another one?” groaned Jaebeom.

“But Jaebeommie,” pouted Jackson, “Mino just got ahold of the latest release from Weasley’s! It’s practically begging for a test drop!”

“Why can’t you just do it without involving me?” Jaebeom complained in return. “Just ask Yugyeom, I know he’d love to.”

The best friends stepped out of the hall and right to the stairs.

“I already asked him,” the other replied, rolling his eyes, “but he’s being weird, acting so skittish all the time. Think he’s hiding something?”

“I think, you better watch your back. Might be because Yugyeom has a prank prepared, probably with that Jeon kid from Hufflepuff. Looks like you’re a likely target,” teased Jaebeom.

“No way!” Jackson yelled in mock-affront. “I teach him everything that I know and that’s how he repays me?”

The stairs suddenly wobbled and moved, as most staircases in Hogwarts did, and Jackson braced himself by grabbing onto his friend. Jaebeom sighed, long-suffering, but endured the casual affection.

“Come on, Jaebeommie! I think this one’s my most brilliant plan as of yet,” Jackson continued as the stairs settled.

Jaebeom ignored him resolutely, hunger at the forefront of his mind.

He was hardly finished with his first slice of toast when Jackson came barreling towards him, complaint already at the tip of his tongue—except his mouth was gone, only to be replaced with a long and bright _beak_.

(Apparently, it was the handiwork of Bambam, who was quite talented in Transfiguration spells that require a lot of finesse. The entire affair occupied Jaebeom's time for the entirety of breakfast, until he had to leave for his Potions class. Johnny Seo had laughed for a whole minute when he shared the reason why he was almost late.)

“I mean, I did say I have some new stuff from Weasley’s, but the brilliance of my plan is what I intend to use for the main act.”

At this, Jaebeom stopped. “I'd say that was almost Slytherin of you, mate,” he said slowly, eyeing his friend.

Jackson waved him off. “Whatever. My plan is genius."

The moving staircase finally settled.

The pair continued to their usual route. Only, when it was time for them to turn to the hallway leading to the Great Hall, Jackson dragged his friend off in the opposite direction.

"Bloody hell, Jackson, I'm really _starving_!" Jaebeom protested, trying to pull back.

But his friend was not to be dissuaded. "And whose fault is that?! Certainly not mine! Blame the snakes, yeah?"

"I'm so hungry I could eat an entire _hippogriff_, feathers and all. Seriously, mate."

Jaebeom recognized that Jackson was dragging him off to Gryffindor Tower and internally groaned. Despite his reluctance and express disapproval, Jaebeom knew there was no stopping his friend and his single-minded focus.

In no time, they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, who greeted them with a slightly suspicious gaze. Jackson, playing to his rarely appreciated charms, soothed the portrait’s suspicions with a boyish grin.

“All right there, madam?” Jackson greeted.

“What is it you want, young man?” asked the portrait suspiciously.

“Oh, don’t worry about us, ma’am, we won’t be entering the common room anyway,” assured Jackson with a wink. “Just wanted to say hello to the lovely lady real quick, s’all.”

The Fat Lady, one of the few who were susceptible to Jackson’s wiles (his words, again), blushed pink and waved airily. “Oh, you horrible _flirt_!” she giggled. “Get on with it, now, what do you want? I know you’re not really here to say hi to dear old me, silly lad.”

Jaebeom rolled his eyes when his friend leered at him.

“All right, then would you terribly mind if I got something from the passage behind you? I dropped it accidentally but I was in a hurry to get to class this morning,” Jackson went on, adopting a convincing apologetic look.

“Oh dear, must be important if you’re cranking up your charm like that, huh,” the Fat Lady replied, laughing.

“Oh, yes, terribly! It’s a thing that I borrowed from a mate, and he’s been asking after it during breakfast, you see. He’s a ‘Puff, can’t exactly tell him to go ahead and grab it himself, can I?”

The Fat Lady faux sighed, eyeing Jackson fondly. “All right, then. In you go, Mr Wang, as long as you remember the password.”

“Of course, how silly of me! It’s ‘_Acta non verba’_,” Jackson declared. He glanced back to Jaebeom and wiggled his eyebrows in excitement, earning him another exasperated eye roll.

The door swung open, revealing a small pouch the size of a palm on the floor. Jackson stepped inside partially, quickly scooping it up, closing the common room entrance just as fast. He threw a jaunty wave back to the Fat Lady (who couldn’t suppress another girlish giggle) and dragged Jaebeom back to the end of the hall.

“This is it!” Jackson crowed triumphantly, holding the sack aloft.

Jaebeom eyed it warily. “What the hell is that?”

“This,” Jackson presented, grinning, “is the work of a _genius_. This, mate, is the key to my most brilliant plan as of yet.”

“You didn’t answer the question, Jacks.”

“Oh, take the stick up your uptight arse, Jaebeom. This is called Sillyweed,” Jackson explained as he carefully took a strip of...wet leaf out of the bag. “This isn’t actually from Weasley’s, I only said that to make things simple. I asked Mino to order this from a _friend_ friend, and they definitely came through.”

“Merlin, Jackson, that sounds like something you’d get arrested for,” Jaebeom said as he scrutinised the “Sillyweed” that Jackson held out. “Are you even sure this is something allowed in the castle?”

“Come off it, Jaebeomie. It’s gillyweed—you know, that plant that allows you to breathe underwater,” Jackson explained, waving the hand holding the Sillyweed.

Jaebeom leaned back, nose scrunching at the wet spray that almost hit him.

“Basically, Sillyweed works like gillyweed, which gives you gills so you can breathe while you’re underwater. Except with Sillyweed, you’re not sure what you’re going to get—kinda like Bertie Botts, I s’ppose.”

The dubious look on Jaebeom’s face was back. “Mate, are you sure this is legal? Like, for real, legal?”

“Why would it be illegal?”

“Are you having me on?” Jaebeom groaned, exasperated. “You don’t see any reason why transfiguring a person, _against their will_, might I add—no reason for that to be illegal?”

“It’s not Transfiguration,” Jackson retorted, the unspoken duh clear in his tone. “If I wanted to Transfigure Tuan or Bambam with pig snouts, I could’ve easily done that.”

(Jaebeom privately thought Jackson couldn’t have done that, because Transfiguration was one of his poorest subjects. Still, he had to commend Jackson’s absolute confidence in himself.)

“What did Mino’s friend say? Do you have any sodding idea what will exactly happen—”

“Merlin, Jaebeom, chill out! It’s fine, they said it’s temporary and totally safe. I reckon the best that I could expect with this is Park sprouting scales like the snake he truly is, or Tuan being covered in fur from head-to-toe. Like a yeti.”

“Yetis aren’t real, mate.”

Jackson snorted. “Says who? _Muggles_, who also say magic isn’t real?” He slipped the piece of Sillyweed back into the pouch, tying it off hastily. “Don’t worry your pretty little mullet, Lim. It’s gonna be fine. I have a plan, got it all figured out and all that.”

“And how exactly do you plan to slip this ‘silly weed’ of yours to Park and his posse?”

“Oh, that bit’s actually fairly easy—”

A new voice rang out before Jackson could finish. “Yes, do tell us, Wang. I’m quite interested myself of your brilliant plan.”

The best friends whipped their heads around.

Jisoo Kim strode forward, smirking confidently. Behind her trailed Jennie Kim, who also happened to be a Fifth-year prefect from their house, and she did not look as amused as her companion.

“Really, Wang? Using joke shop bits and baubles, too—how _juvenile_,” Jisoo continued, voice full of mockery as she eyed the two Gryffindors.

“I told you I don’t want any more of the petty pranking. The dungbombs last time were particularly potent and I don’t want a repeat of that,” Jennie complained. “What’s that in your hand?”

“Th-This?” Jackson stuttered, “This is just some biscuits my gran sent from Hong Kong—”

“You Gryffindorks are terrible liars,” Jisoo cut in, cackling. Jennie elbowed her friend, pouting, “Hey!” but Jisoo only laughed further. “We heard you loud and clear, idiot. If you didn’t love hearing yourself talk so much—”

“No one asked for your opinion, snake,” Jackson snarled.

The dark amusement on the Slytherin’s face remained, but she said nothing further.

Jennie crossed her arms, trying to affect sternness. It didn’t help her much, what with the innocent baby face she had. “Hand it over, Jackson. Jisoo’s right—I heard you loud and clear.”

The problem with Jennie Kim being a prefect, Jaebeom reflected as he watched his friend argue with her, was she was simply _too pretty_. She was also known to be quite shy, except during the rare moments that she braved against her urge to hide from scrutiny. When she became awarded the prefect position, a lot of people were surprised—and many expressed their doubts. She was, after all, mostly soft-spoken, almost too fragile-looking to be in Gryffindor.

“Seriously, Jennie, this is nothing—”

“You were plotting against a fellow student—”

“—Park is a huge prat—”

“D-Detention!” Jennie shouted angrily. “Detention for you both, Jackson Wang and Jaebeom Lim!”

“What? Why me?” Jaebeom shouted. “What’s your basis?!”

“You lot think,” Jennie yelled above Jaebeom’s and Jackson’s complaints, face pink (either in embarrassment or anger, probably both), “just because I have this sodding babyface, that you can just go over my head and never take my being a prefect seriously!”

“Nobody thinks that!” Jaebeom shouted back, his temper getting ahead of him.

He was seriously starving, and he wouldn’t have been here if it weren’t for Jackson. And then, Jisoo Kim’s arrogant, smug face just stared straight at him as if she were just enjoying a live show meant for her—what an absolute arse.

“Don’t raise your voice at me!” Jennie warned, despite the waver in her voice.

“Jennie, this is all just a misunderstanding,” Jackson tried to placate her, but Jennie shook her head.

“I’m done being ignored as a figure of authority,” declared Jennie, eyes ablaze with determination. “You will both serve detentions this weekend and I am docking ten points each for talking back to a prefect. It’s time I set aside my worries and do my actual job.”

Jisoo’s clapping broke through the atmosphere.

“_Bravo_, prefect, bravo. So the lion finally learned how to make her roar echo,” she said amusedly.

Jennie Kim’s fierce visage vanished in an instant, leaving behind her usual blushing facade. “S-Stop it, Ji. It’s not funny.”

“I’m not laughing at you, dear! I’m congratulating you!”

“Whatever, Ji,” Jennie grumbled. She turned back to Jackson and Jaebeom, who both still looked mutinous despite their silence. “I’m serious about detention. This weekend. I’ll inform you where and when it’ll be.”

“Are we done here?” Jaebeom snapped.

Jennie’s docile look morphed back into a sharp rebuke, “Watch your tone, Jaebeom. You might be older, but I’m still a prefect.” Her gaze softened into some semblance of neutrality. “And yes, we’re done here. I won’t confiscate that anymore, but I better not hear about any other pranks from the two of you, understood?”

Jackson nodded, still angry, and hastily slipped the pouch into his robes.

“You better head to lunch, if that’s where you’re going,” the prefect warned for the last time. “You wouldn’t want to cross paths with other prefects—or professors.”

The Gryffindor prefect turned back to her friend, nodding. Jisoo uncrossed her arms, smirked at Jaebeom and Jackson, and walked away with Jennie without another word.

“This is literally the worst time for Jennie to grow a backbone,” Jackson whinged. “She shouldn’t be friends with that snake—she’s too—”

“I don’t care,” Jaebeom cut in, still furious. “Let’s just head to the Great Hall, Jacks.”

Looking properly chastened, Jackson pouted. “Sorry, Jaebeommie—”

“Let’s just eat, Jackson,” Jaebeom sighed tiredly.

*

“What we're doing today is _Godric's work_, I tell you! Godric _goddamn_ Gryffindor himself should be proud of me!" ranted Jackson as he heaved another fistful of weeds from the seedling plot he was bent over.

Behind him, Yugyeom wielded a trowel and manually dug holes on another empty plot.

"Somehow, I don't think Godric Gryffindor ever put off a Hogsmeade trip to go look at plants that could eat people," Yugyeom muttered darkly.

Jaebeom would have expressed his annoyance as Jackson and Yugyeom did, but he figured the two already summed up his sentiments well enough.

It should have been a fine Saturday morning but instead of sleeping in like he normally did on weekends, Jaebeom was currently slaving away in the castle's humid greenhouses with his friends.

"Seriously, I can't thank you enough for doing this with me," Youngjae whispered from his left. "Even if Jacks and Gyeom are both obviously not happy about it."

The Hufflepuff prefect was the reason why their group was spending their Saturday morning covered in dirt.

Youngjae came up to the Gryffindor table the night before, bouncing in excitement and stealing Jackson’s goblet of pumpkin juice. He then proceeded to tell them about the volunteer clean-up in the greenhouse scheduled the following morning and happily reported that he managed to “suggest” to the Head Boy, Seokjin Kim, to let them serve detention with him at the greenhouses.

“I was allowed to monitor your detention instead of Jennie Kim, even though she was the one who gave you detention. At least it won’t be terrible, I reckon. And it’s just like a Herbology class, except more fun!”

Jaebeom, unable to say no to his younger friend’s enthusiasm, readily accepted and even roped (read: forced) Jackson and Yugyeom into faking cheer as well.

The four of them met up at the Entrance Hall that morning, the castle grounds foggy and cool as they trekked to the greenhouses where they held their Herbology classes.

When they arrived, Professor Yoseob Yang was already there, distributing tasks left and right.

Jaebeom and his friends were assigned to the empty plots upon arrival, and for the past hour and a half, they busied themselves with the repetitive motions of pulling weeds and digging holes.

"Better than letting Yugyeom raid the kitchens on a Saturday morning, at least," offered Jaebeom.

He raised his voice a little, earning him a loud complaint from the boy in question.

"But Jeongguk’s the one who needs to lay off the sweets!" Yugyeom protested.

It was Youngjae's turn to scoff. "You _both_ need to lay off the sweets if we want to beat the Gryffindors this season."

At the vehemence in Youngjae's tone, Jackson whirled around, betrayed. "How can you say that, Youngjae? You have more friends in the Gryffindor team! You should be rooting for Jaebeom and me instead of Yugyeom's pasty arse!!"

"Yeah, but I'm a prefect now. I have to foster solidarity in our House, and that includes fully supporting our Quidditch team."

Mocking laughter rang out from the entrance of the greenhouse.

"It's _cute_ that you think you have a chance against Slytherin this year when we all know we’d crush you like bugs anyway."

Four heads whipped to regard the newcomer.

Jackson and Jaebeom, the Gryffindor duo and the eldest, shot up from their crouches. Postures were tense as they watched the blond-haired boy enter the greenhouse, sneer plastered on his youthful face.

Jaebeom snuck a glance behind the boy, peering (not-so subtly) at the mouth of the entrance for any sign of the usual reinforcements that accompanied the blond, but no one was there.

Bambam noticed, though. "Oh, honey. I didn't come down here with Jinyoung, sorry to burst your bubble. Came here for Mark, actually."

He paid the others no mind as he strode forward.

(“He’s in detention with the two of you, isn’t he?” Youngjae whispered to Jaebeom. “The nerve to show up late for detention, Merlin, honestly.”)

"Mark!" he hollered. "Where you at, Mark?"

"I'm here at the back with Jinyoung," a quiet, even voice responded. "And stop yelling, prat."

"What the _fuck_?" Jackson exclaimed once the Slytherin was out of earshot. "Did you know that Slytherin's royal entourage was here the whole time?"

Yugyeom, whose face looked flushed with the growing heat inside the greenhouse, shook his head and shrugged.

Jaebeom himself was also caught off guard that Jinyoung was there in the greenhouse the whole time. "If I'd known they were here—"

"Please, it's too early to get into a fight with the Slytherins," moaned Youngjae. "Can't you guys manage to coexist and breathe the same humid air without bickering like cats and dogs? For Merlin’s sake, you got detention because you were—"

"I would rather get eaten by a carnivorous plant," Jackson declared hotly. "I just don't get why those snakes are here, when they can literally _get away with murder_. They aren’t here for detention, are they? And I can't imagine that there's some semblance of goodness in their shrivelled hearts—"

"Of course Mark is here. He's Professor Yang's best student and one of the longest volunteers here!" Youngjae interrupted exasperatedly.

Jaebeom could see that both of his friends were getting worked up over the Slytherins, but he thought they were not worth the fight.

"Jacks, don't be so harsh on him; it's not a big deal," he admonished his best friend. Then he turned to the younger. "Why didn't you tell us, Youngjae?" he asked, softening his tone.

"I thought you were cool with it!" insisted the Hufflepuff. “It’s just Mark!”

"Hey. Keep it down, would you?"

Mark emerged from the deeper part of the greenhouse where Professor Yang had warned them off earlier about the more..._sentient_ flora and fauna. He was wearing simple denim overalls stained with dirt and grass, and his red hair stood in stark contrast against the dark and sombre colours of the greenhouse's interior.

"Lim, Kim, come with me," the slight boy barked.

Jackson bristled at his tone. "What, when Park isn't around, _you_ get to wear the crown? Is that it, Tuan? Should we address you as 'Your Highness' too, and heed your call?"

The Slytherin barely shot him a glance. Instead, he turned to both Yugyeom and Jaebeom.

"You, Puffling, go help Bam with the seedlings for the plots here. Jaebeom, make use of those Beater arms and follow me."

Then he strode back to the direction where he came from without a backward glance as if he expected the two to follow him without question.

Jaebeom found it odd that the Slytherin chose him because of his "Beater arms" when Jackson was just as qualified for whatever task he needed doing. After all, he and Jackson were the Gryffindor Quidditch team's Beater pair, the best their house had to offer ever since the infamous Weasley twins left Hogwarts.

Jackson, on the other hand, took offence for an entirely different reason. "You privileged _snake_! How dare you order my friends around!"

The Slytherin stopped in his tracks and turned back.

Youngjae stepped in and placed a placating hand on Jackson's shoulder. "Calm down, Jackson. He's allowed to do that here."

"Like hell?! Who made him the ruler of this greenhouse?!"

"The royalty business is more of Jinyoung's domain than mine. But I am the caretaker of this greenhouse, though," deadpanned Mark. "If you're quite done having a fit, quiet down. You've been causing so much racket and if you don't stop now, you might find yourself barking at the wrong tree."

"Why you fuc—"

"You really shouldn't be saying that in front of a prefect—"

"Oi Mark! Should I really just let Jinyoung sleep here?"

Bambam popped back from the darker depths of the greenhouse.

"I'm worried he might start growing roots if he stays there, although I'm kinda curious what kind of flowers he'll have if ever," he elaborated.

Mark snorted. "He's more likely to be a tuber than a flowering plant. Go with Kim and fetch the seedlings that need to be planted to the empty plots."

"Should we re-pot Jinyoung now while we're at it? I know just the spot where we could bury him."

"Just let him be," the older Slytherin sighed. "Some actual sleep and a little sun will do him wonders."

Bambam raised his hands in mock defeat. "Suit yourself, Your Highness. The plant kingdom is all yours, anyway." He switched his sharp eyes to Yugyeom, who flushed at the attention. "Guess you're my toy today, mouse. Let's play, shall we?"

The Hufflepuff squeaked when the blond reached out to link their arms together, dragging him to another part of the greenhouse.

Jaebeom fought the protective urge to snatch his younger friend from the Slytherin's clutches.

"Youngjae, I trust that you can supervise your friends and Bambam while we work at the back?" Mark spoke. He was addressing the prefect but his eyes bore into Jaebeom, who felt uneasy for some reason.

"We'll be fine here, Mark. Call us if you need more help," replied Youngjae.

The redhead gave him a slight nod then marched back where he came from.

“If you find the perfect opportunity, hex the bugger,” Jackson muttered his best friend.

Jaebeom shook his head, suddenly tired for some reason, and moved to follow the red-haired Slytherin to the greenhouse’s more perilous section.

The contrast between the front and back parts of the greenhouse was striking.

Where the entire front area was flooded by weak morning sunlight, as Jaebeom went further at the back, all sorts of noise started to fill his ears. Vines and other hanging plants curtained the surroundings, many of them as high as the glass ceiling, limiting the pockets of natural light that penetrated the area.

It was under one of those pockets of sunshine that Jaebeom spotted the missing member of the Slytherin trio, slumped over a work table and surrounded by pots of different flowering plants. The weak sunlight gave the slumbering figure a sort of otherworldly appearance.

_Merlin, he looks like he should be in a Disney movie,_ Jaebeom thought unconsciously.

Mark was quick to direct the Gryffindor to a couple of rows of plant boxes that housed a plant with purple flowers, seemingly hellbent to go straight to work.

Given their less-amicable circumstances, Jaebeom preferred Mark's task-oriented mindset, despite his astonishment at the lack of animosity.

“These plants are monkshood. They need to be moved further east because they aren’t agreeing with the feng shui of this area and—”

“The _what_?"

“...The feng shui. It needs to be balanced so the monkshood has to be placed east first before the delivery of Venomous Tentacula arrives.”

The Gryffindor stared at the redhead, uncomprehending.

Mark rolled his eyes. “Whatever, I don’t need to explain this to you. Just move those plant boxes further east.”

“You could say ‘please’, you know,” Jaebeom responded sarcastically. In spite of his complaining, he crouched to grab the sides of the plant boxes to test their weight before lifting them.

“Be careful not to touch the plants themselves, though. They’re extremely poisonous.”

“You couldn’t have opened with that?!” yelled Jaebeom, stepping back hastily, but the Slytherin was already busying himself with another cluster of plants nearby.

The pair worked mostly in silence, the monotony of their actions punctuated by the occasional sounds from the more mobile plants.

At one point, Mark even sent him to check whether the others had already killed each other off. Jaebeom was surprised to discover Bambam incessantly chattering to Yugyeom, who resembled a tomato with how flushed he was, as they both carefully planted the seedlings that they collected earlier.

Work was nothing particularly tedious, although Mark was right to ask the Gryffindor for help.

Most of the tasks entailed moving pots and plant boxes here and there, and due to the more delicate nature of the plants in that area, levitation spells were rarely effective or advisable. Hence, most of the work consisted of physical labour that Quidditch players wouldn’t have a problem accomplishing.

However, one thing bugged Jaebeom.

“How come you asked me to help you and not Jackson?” he asked when work became lull.

The Slytherin did not face him, but he responded easily enough, “Last thing I need here is someone yelling loud enough to disturb the plants and wake up Jinyoung before he’s supposed to be awake.”

Well, two things actually bugged Jaebeom.

“What’s up with him?” Jaebeom threw out, making an effort to appear nonchalant.

(Not that he succeeded, with the way Mark slowly turned to send him an odd look.)

It took a while before the Slytherin answered.

“Hasn’t been sleeping much lately, more so than what's normal for him.”

“He should have stayed back in the castle and slept in.”

“For someone who doesn’t give a fuck about Jinyoung," Mark offered, "you surely show the opposite.”

That gave him pause.

“...Who said anything about caring? I was just curious,” he defended himself. Jaebeom hated the way it sounded so weak even in his ears.

“You haven't spared any thought about Jinyoung for the past five years, Lim. Don’t go caring about him now just because you think you finally see him, ‘cause you definitely haven’t seen anything yet,” came Mark’s caustic remark.

Jaebeom didn’t know what to reply to that—not that Mark seemed like he was expecting a response.

The Slytherin had seemed oddly angry, mentioning the same words that Jinyoung left him before they parted at the library a few days ago.

He did not get a chance to reply.

Jinyoung stirred and let out a soft whimper, then suddenly he was blinking himself awake. Mark was the first one that he spotted, given that the redhead was directly in his line of vision.

“Merlin, Morgana and Circe, how long was I out? My back is _killing_ me,” Jinyoung complained quite elaborately.

“You passed out as soon as you parked your arse on that stool,” replied Mark dryly. “It’s nearly nine; we’ve been here for close to four hours now.”

“Damn it,” Jinyoung cursed, “I’m really sorry for falling asleep. I know I promised that I’d come and help out but—”

“It’s fine, idiot. I’ve had some help today,” Mark interrupted, gesturing to Jaebeom’s direction.

It was only then that Jinyoung noticed the Gryffindor’s presence.

His eyes widened and he suddenly shot up from his seat, smoothing out his sleep-rumpled hair and sweater.

“Jaebeom, hi! I didn’t realize you were there!” Jinyoung greeted, fluster evident in his tone.

From the corner of his eye, Jaebeom spotted Mark covering his face, shaking his head.

“I hadn’t realized that you’re also a volunteer in the clean-up program,” the Slytherin boy continued, eyes inquiring.

“I'm not. Youngjae asked us for a favour.”

“...Oh. So your friends are here, too?”

“At the front, planting some seedlings.”

“Can’t have everyone rampaging here and disturbing the more active plants. I just planted a Hissing Dovesbirch and the thistles are sensitive this time of the year,” Mark added.

Jinyoung chuckled. “You need to trust people with some of the work here, Mark. One person can’t possibly maintain an entire greenhouse of exotic magical plants alone, after all.”

“Which is why I asked a Quidditch player to do the heavy-lifting for me.”

“I hope you didn’t let Mark order you around so much, Jaebeom,” teased Jinyoung.

The red-haired boy threw him an odd look, which Jaebeom noted only because he was observing the banter closely.

He was saved from coming up with a response when Youngjae showed up.

“We’re nearly done with the seedlings, Mark. Yugyeom and Bambam are finishing up with the cleaning but we’re pretty much done,” the Hufflepuff said.

Mark did not speak for a moment, engaged in a silent conversation with his best friend.

Jackson entered the scene as well, annoyance evident in his face.

“Can any of you snakes claim your crazy pet? He’s been bugging Gyeom for two hours now and I’m about to jinx the little prat so he’d shut his mouth!”

Jinyoung turned to him with a pleasant smile. “Wang, be a _darling_, would you? Do us all a favour and hex your trap shut. I’m sure your friends will be glad to get a break from your yapping.”

Annoyance was quick to take over Jaebeom's mood at the vitriol in the Slytherin's tone.

“Don’t talk to my friend like that, Jinyoung!” he snapped.

The smile slid off Jinyoung’s face.

“Take your advice, Park. Everyone here is sick of you playing royalty, just because daddy’s got some cushiony position in the school board,” Jackson snarled.

“Merlin, here we go again,” Youngjae muttered, stepping away.

“Don’t think that I don’t know that while we were all slaving away the whole time, you were sleeping here like a princess! Like, like that Cinderfella arse!”

“Shut your mouth, Jackson,” Mark ground out at the same time that Jinyoung replied, “I don’t need to explain myself when your tiny brain could never comprehend anything, Wang.”

“Have some _respect_ for yourself, Mark. Being Prince Jinyoung’s lapdog couldn’t possibly be _all that_,” Jackson remarked snidely.

“Uh, guys, you should really consider chilling out,” Youngjae suggested, eyes wandering.

Jaebeom noticed his friend’s wary stance and glanced around as well.

He had been working in the greenhouse for close to two hours now, and the whole time he was there, the greenhouse was never completely silent. An odd chirp or hiss always echoed around him, creating a cacophony of sounds that indicated how alive the plants were.

Those sounds were gone now, the area eerily quiet except for their arguing.

“Do you always aspire to be the biggest oaf in this castle, huh?” Mark said sarcastically.

Before Jackson could retort, a huge tentacle swept him off his feet, sending him crashing to a group of empty pots that Jaebeom previously moved there.

Youngjae yelled in terror and jumped back, falling on his arse.

All Jaebeom was able to see was his best friend’s curled up form, Mark’s arm extended towards Jackson’s direction as he shouted, “_Petrificus totalus!_”, and suddenly rage was coursing through his veins as he bellowed, “_Stupefy_!”

“ARE YOU INSANE!?” Mark cried as he swerved to avoid the spell. “Why are you Stunning me, you absolute fool!?”

He ducked again when the arm that Jaebeom was originally aiming for writhed after getting hit by the spell.

“Would you rather I let you get brained by that fucking _tentacle_?!” the Gryffindor yelled back. “Stupefy!”

“Are you fucking kidding me? Do you have any idea what this plant is?!”

“STUPEFY!” Jaebeom yelled in panic as a tentacle almost nicked him as well.

“BY SALAZAR, DO NOT STUN THE PLANT YOU UTTER IMBECILE!” Mark bellowed.

It was the first time that Jaebeom saw the Slytherin lose his cool and stoic facade, but he couldn’t be bothered to remark on such a rarity as he was busy firing stunning spell after stunning spell.

The “plant”, as Mark had called it, had completely unfurled by the time that Jaebeom regained his footing. It stood almost up to the ceiling of the greenhouse and a screech not unlike Mark’s came out of wherever the plant’s mouth was.

Without any of them realizing it, their fight had attracted one of the more sentient plants hosted in the greenhouse.

“STOP IT! STOP IT, I SAID!” the red-haired boy screamed, throwing himself between Jaebeom and the plant, eyes wet but blazing with fury.

“If you don’t get out of the way, you’ll get hit!” Jaebeom shouted.

“I don’t give a flipping damn! I said fucking stop it already!”

“Stupefy!” Jaebeom cried, aiming higher to avoid hitting the Slytherin in front of him.

“Protego!” yelled Mark desperately.

“What the actual—”

“Petrificus totalus!” Jinyoung’s clear and calm voice rang.

He stood at the side with a grim look on his face, arm raised and pointed towards the now-frozen hulking mass of vines that were as thick as a human’s thigh. His gaze met Jaebeom’s eyes but instead of the usual fondness and smile, the Slytherin’s glassy eyes were hard and cutting, not unlike obsidian.

Just as well, Jinyoung’s eyes quickly moved to his friend’s figure, who was already at the base of the plant’s mass with a soothing hand gingerly caressing a singed part.

“What the fuck? What the _fuck_?!” Jackson hollered.

Jaebeom was glad to see his best friend up on his two feet, assisted by Youngjae but seemingly unharmed.

“I warned you all to quiet down, to shut your goddamn mouths,” Mark spoke tonelessly. His back was still turned from the rest of them.

“I think it’s best if we leave now,” Youngjae commented. His eyes were imploring as he looked at Jaebeom for direction. But Jaebeom was still furious.

“Why are you keeping that creature here on school grounds? What if it seriously hurt someone? What if Jackson had gotten hurt?!”

“Calm yourself, Jaebeom,” Jinyoung said—no, ordered. There was no mistaking his tone. “It was a gift from Bambam to Mark a year ago, and Professor Yang gave him express permission to house the plant here.”

“Oh really? What if it fucking ate a student, huh?! Just, Purebloods and their love for Dark magic, _nothing to see here_, is that it?” retorted Jaebeom.

The red-haired boy whipped around fast.

“If you weren’t such an _incompetent_ flobberworm, you would have known that this is a _herbivorous_ variety of the tentacula family,” hissed Mark slowly. “If you had _any semblance_ of intelligence in your _hollow_ skull, you would have known that this variety makes _involuntary_ movements when it’s awake, and the only way to deal with it is to _freeze_ the Salazar-damned plant so you could walk off to safety. If only, right?”

“Don’t pretend that you noticed the blasted plant until it knocked off Jackson! You’re just as clueless as we were, which makes that plant a liability here!”

Bambam and Yugyeom showed up just in time before anybody else could draw their wands.

“Whoa, we missed the fight!” Bambam exclaimed, disappointed. He turned to the Hufflepuff beside him and added, “I told you we should have gone after Jackson!”

The blond regarded each of them individually, saving his friends for last. When his eyes landed on Mark and the slight wetness of his eyes, the easygoing expression on

Bambam’s face evaporated. He glanced at the frozen plant behind his friend and his face further darkened.

“Who did this?” he said lowly. “Who _hurt_ your favourite plant, Mark?”

“Let’s put a lid on this now, shall we?” Jinyoung interjected. He raised a hand when Bambam opened his mouth to argue. “It’s been a long morning, after all. We should get back to the castle.”

Jaebeom scoffed. “Why so quick to dismiss this? A _plant_ got hurt, so you’ve said. Aren’t you supposed to be crying foul by now? Running off to tell the teachers so they’d tell daddy?”

Jinyoung’s expression shuttered off. “If there’s punishment to dole out, a perfectly upstanding prefect is among us,” he remarked, challenging eyes never straying from Jaebeom’s. “He can decide on the appropriate way to settle this matter.”

“Guys, I just want to go back to the castle and rest,” Youngjae groaned tiredly. “I honestly don’t want to deal with your petty squabbling right at this moment.”

For a moment, no one spoke and silence reigned heavy inside the greenhouse.

It was Jaebeom’s sigh that broke the moment.

“Youngjae is right. We should just call it a day and go back to the castle, clean up. It’s unfair to make him deal with us when we’ve all been equally responsible here, somehow,” he declared.

Jackson still looked mutinous but thankfully, he held his tongue.

Jinyoung nodded in agreement. “You should go ahead and leave first. We’ll finish up here.”

“Noble isn’t a good look on your green and silver scales, Park,” Jackson commented snidely.

He turned his back and slung an arm around Yugyeom’s shoulder, dragging him away.

Youngjae sent them an apologetic look. “I’m really sorry about what happened, Mark. I had fun today, though. I’ll see you at the next clean-up?”

Mark remained mute but gave the Hufflepuff a short nod.

“Thank you for volunteering, Youngjae. I’m sure Mark really appreciates your help,” Jinyoung assured him.

He moved to put a gentle hand on the Hufflepuff’s shoulder. “I apologize for the fight. And for putting you on the spot. I know how much you hate it when we fight.”

“Youngjae, come on,” Jaebeom’s voice rang.

Youngjae sent the older Slytherin another apologetic smile, then walked away with his friend.

Jaebeom did not spare Jinyoung any backward glance.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays, y'all! I am liminalsp-ces on tumblr if you wanna see short previews and writing updates on this. <3
> 
> I have high hopes for this fic this year. My target is to finish it until the first half of 2020, latest! Fingers crossed. Let's hope life doesn't get in the way.


	4. brutum fulmen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> senseless thunderbolt, empty threat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, loves! I know it's been a while (more than two months!) and I'm really sorry for that. Work picked up pace, and I had a lot of adjusting and settling to do. But I found myself some time to work on this, taking advantage of the quarantine and all that. I hope everyone is keeping safe whichever corner of the world you all are, and please avoid touching MEN: Mouth, Eyes, Nose. //wink, wink
> 
> I'm uploading this at 2 in the morning and I haven't checked the final version for formatting mishaps. I will sleep first and work on it (plus replying to your comments!) after a few hours of sleep~

Despite his constant denial, Jaebeom actually still remembered—quite vividly, for that matter—the first time he met Jinyoung Park.

It was during a party organized by a high-ranking Ministry official, which he had attended along with his father and grandfather.

At the time, it was only natural for the adults to be engaged in all sorts of chitchat over things that Jaebeom, at eight years old, had no interest whatsoever.

He was at a party organized by some higher-ups in the Ministry, along with his father and grandfather.

As the former Minister of Magic, Jaebeom’s grandfather was quite in demand. Everyone wanted to talk to him even, eager to connect with the aging wizard for even the briefest of hellos. Jaebeom had always felt proud of this fact, proud of his grandfather’s legacy of integrity and service. But at the moment, he couldn’t care less about policies and Wizengamont votes, and whose children were off to become apprenticed under whoever.

Instead, he fiddled with the disposable camera that his mum had gifted him a week ago, hidden underneath the wide sleeves of his robe.

It was a Muggle camera that was different from the previous cameras that he already owned, one that took permanently-frozen photos instead of moving ones.

Jaebeom had been fascinated by Muggle photos the first time he saw one, had wondered how the people featured in each image did not grow tired of staying still like that. For an entire week, he flitted around their house, taking pictures of moving things and people alike, snickering to himself in mischievous anticipation of the hilarious photos that would come out of the "negatives". The negatives, according to his mother, was the roll of dark material inside the Muggle contraption which made the smart little gadget work.

Before leaving for the party, Jaebeom thought it would be prudent to bring along the handy device in case the party was boring—and he was _ right_.

There were few children in the party, and most of them were being corralled by the adults accompanying them, eager to show off the littlest things that they could do. Jaebeom used to put up with the pony show, but he had finally told his father “no” when he turned eight, and was subsequently excused from the adults.

“You look quite a bit lonely there, mate.”

Jaebeom looked up to a taller kid, possibly already a teenager, and found him smiling. Ever the introvert even then, often seeming snobbish rather than shy, Jaebeom refused to return the smile and dropped his eyes to the ground instead.

“Hey, would you mind terribly if I invited you over to the refreshments? I’ve volunteered myself to mind some of the children here, just thought you could use a friend.”

“I’m not a kid anymore, I’m eight,” Jaebeom had mumbled. 

The older boy chuckled and Jaebeom found that it was not patronising. He decided he could use to be more polite to the older boy.

“Oh, of course. Dreadful mistake on my part,” the older kid acknowledged, smiling wryly. “My cousin is also by the refreshments, and he’s eight as well. He’s also been repeatedly telling me the same thing, you know.”

“Maybe you should listen to him, then,” Jaebeom countered.

It drew another laugh out of the other boy.

And Jaebeom, despite himself, agreed to be escorted to where the other children were staying put.

The older boy had been Hakyeon Cha, Jinyoung’s maternal older cousin. Hakyeon had taken one look at Jaebeom and started clucking like a hen, worrying about the “friendless kid” at the corner of Undersecretary Brown’s grand ballroom.

Hakyeon first escorted Jaebeom to his father and grandfather to seek their permission. And in no time, he had charmed both elder Lims by volunteering to include Jaebeom in his small brood of Pureblood children—a huge feat, considering that both Lim men knew which family Hakyeon had come from.

At the time, Jaebeom still had no idea about the rumours surrounding the Cha family. Had he known, he would have been surprised not only by Hakyeon’s sincere and genuine friendliness but also his grandfather’s agreement to allow the association between Jaebeom and Hakyeon to form.

And yet, it seemed to be the kind of effect that Hakyeon had on people, the way he had always carried himself as a responsible and sensibly mature boy, easily putting people he interacted with at ease regardless of his family background.

Hakyeon had ushered Jaebeom away from his father’s side and led him to a small clump of similarly-aged children, chattering about introducing him to his “precious Jinyoungie” and the friends that he had made.

Thus, the earliest connection between Jaebeom and Jinyoung Park was born.

And then the thing during their first year in Hogwarts happened, and any positive feelings that Jaebeom attributed to Jinyoung, scarce as they were, instantly evaporated, replaced by animosity that had lasted for years now.

Jinyoung did not sit with him during the train ride, perhaps arranging beforehand with his closest friends (at the time), Doyoung Kim and Jisoo Kim, to spend their first train ride to Hogwarts together. 

Jaebeom, on the other hand, became fast friends with Jackson on the train, having stumbled upon the foreign kid in the corridor as Jackson frantically searched for someone.

At the Sorting ceremony, Jaebeom felt trepidation just as much as the rest of the first-years did.

His father had made it clear that he did not care to which House Jaebeom would belong, but Jaebeom was still glad to be Sorted into Gryffindor, in any case. More so when Jackson excitedly followed and sat beside him for the rest of the Welcoming feast.

It was at the end of the Welcome Feast when things had truly turned for the worst, an irreversible turn as far as Jaebeom was concerned.

The Gryffindor prefect was herding all the Gryffindor firsties without much difficulty, about to lead them to the famed Gryffindor Tower, when a small face swam against the current of black robes about to exit the Great Hall.

“Jaebeom!” Jinyoung had cried out.

Distantly, an exasperated shout from the Slytherin prefect in charge echoed after him.

“Jaebeom! Jaebeom! _Jaebeom!_”

“Why's that Slytherin kid making his way here? Know him?” Jackson whispered from behind him.

Jaebeom glanced to where his new friend was pointing out, and found Jinyoung’s tiny form—clad in Slytherin colours as expected. He was urgently pushing against other taller and bigger students, making his way to Jaebeom's direction.

“I know him a bit, but we’re not really close,” was Jaebeom’s reply, suddenly uncomfortable.

Jinyoung had finally won against the flow of students blocking his way, and he stood determinedly in front of Jaebeom and beamed.

“Come along, Jaebeom. I heard the Slytherin common room is supposed to be near the dungeons, and I don't imagine it would be a pleasant place to stay in. But you need not worry, we shall make do to warm ourselves up properly,” Jinyoung declared magnanimously, or as magnanimous as a tiny eleven-year-old could sound. He reached out to take Jaebeom’s hand, but the other boy stepped back, bewildered.

“Why should I care where the Slytherin dungeons are?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed. 

Jackson stepped from behind him and added almost kindly, ever the friendly one even as a kid: “Reckon you’re lost, mate. You’re supposed to go with your House prefect to get to the dorms.” 

Jinyoung’s earnest eyes switched to the stranger in front of him, then back to Jaebeom.

Belatedly, Jackson held out his hand and added, “I’m Jackson, by the way. From Hong Kong.”

“There’s been a mistake,” Jinyoung shook his head, “but Father can remedy that easily enough. He’s the chairman of the school governors, you know? You can bunk with me on my bed until they sort this out in the morning. I don’t mind sharing.”

The Gryffindor prefect finally took notice of the hold up. “Oi, you’re not _ my _kid, are you? Go back to your prefect, firstie!”

“I’m not going without Jaebeom,” Jinyoung insisted petulantly.

Jaebeom heard the whispers behind him as the other kids started to giggle at the display. Slowly, he felt his ears getting warm, and he was quite sure that his face was reddening as well.

“Jinyoung, _ go away!_” he hissed, embarrassed. He hated being in the center of attention, a huge downside given how high-profile both sides of his family were, in _ both _Wizarding and Muggle societies. And right at that moment, Jinyoung’s theatrics felt a lot like when people swarmed him to ask about his mother or his grandfather.

Jinyoung’s determination remained steadfast as he spoke again, catering his tone to exude patience as if he were talking to a spooked animal or a young child. 

“Jaebeom, no. We can fix the mistake with the Sorting tomorrow, but you can stay in our dormitories tonight with me. It’s pointless to spend one night in Gryffindor when you’ll be gone the next.”

The bewilderment Jaebeom’s face reflected both the prefect’s and Jackson’s.

“There’s no re-Sorting to be done, kid. He’s in Gryffindor from now on, and you’re in Slytherin,” the prefect stated, a little harried, “Will you _ please _ go back to your housemates so I can finally get these tykes to the tower?”

“No! We’re supposed to be Sorted together—”

“Mate, your friendship won’t end just because you’re in different Houses now,” Jackson interrupted, to which Jaebeom had defensively burst out, “We’re not even friends! _ He’s not my friend! _”

Jinyoung stopped in his tracks, doe eyes widening. His lower lip wobbled a bit, but he didn’t cry—not that Jaebeom cared, at that point. The whispers and pointing were starting to get to him, and when he was in great discomfort, Jaebeom tended to be churlish and careless with his words.

“I, I mean, I could spend the night at _ your _dormitory then, I suppose,” JInyoung offered tentatively. He bit his lip and went on, “I can get Sorted again tomorrow morning, once I write a letter to my father. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind that I got Sorted in Gryffindor.”

Jackson glanced at Jaebeom, who refused to look back, still highly embarrassed by the whole affair. 

“Hey, what’s wrong here?”

Hakyeon made his way through the stalled crowd of Gryffindors, confused and just a little bit exasperated.

“Jinyoungie, why are you over here? You’re supposed to follow Hyuna with the rest of the Slytherin first-years,” he stated as he crouched to Jinyoung’s eye level. He glanced around and his gaze locked in with Jaebeom’s, who flushed further at the attention. 

Hakyeon brushed a kind hand through his cousin’s hair, who in turn looked like he might cry with little prompting. “You can go and make friends again tomorrow, okay? Right now, everyone’s supposed to be in bed to rest. You have Herbology first thing in the morning, right? That’s a good class, I really like Professor Yang.”

“Oi mate, the kid yours?” the Gryffindor prefect cut in.

Jinyoung’s cousin nodded. He stood up and took Jinyoung’s wrist in his hand.

“Yeah. Sorry about this, Junmyeon. He’s my cousin. I’ll just bring him along then, sorry for the trouble,” Hakyeon sighed, offering an apologetic grin to the prefect.

“Junmyeon” only chuckled and waved him off. “It’s fine, Hakyeon. Your cousin might have just felt lonely seeing his friend in another house, but he’ll adjust.”

“He’s not my friend,” Jaebeom mumbled, angry, but the two older students didn’t seem to notice.

“Cousin Hakyeon, there's been a mistake. Jaebeom and I were supposed to be placed together, and now he doesn’t want to go with me to Slytherin. I figured I could go to Gryffindor instead, but now I just realized that you might get sad if I go,” Jinyoung said, eyes shiny as he looked up to his cousin.

“Oh, ‘Nyoungie,” Hakyeon sighed. In an instant, he was kneeling again, Jinyoung in his embrace. Jaebeom saw him mouth something to the Gryffindor prefect, which suspiciously sounded like, “Go, I got this.”

In any case, Junmyeon had ushered the curious onlookers back into a proper line, Jaebeom and Jackson included, and led them out of the Great Hall. 

In retrospect, it could have been a sweet childhood memory and Jaebeom could have laughed it off eventually, even the part where Jinyoung invoked his father’s name.

But it hadn’t been the end of it, and that was what turned their precarious and short friendship sour, a relationship that was now beyond repair.

“Sickle for your thoughts, Lim?”

Jaebeom started when a rather bony elbow hit his side. He was prepared to snap and bite off the head of the offender, so he turned but subsequently met a broad chest where a Slytherin tie hung. Dragging his gaze up, Jaebeom met the mischievous grin on Johnny Seo’s eyes and immediately scowled.

“What do you want now, Seo?” Jaebeom grumbled, though with less venom than he’d usually award to other Slytherins, particularly Jinyoung and his lot.

“Oh, nothing much. Just saw you there gaping on thin air, thought you could use a shake or two,” came the grinning reply. “For a moment there, I thought you’d been Petrified, which doesn’t really make sense, since the last known basilisk was slain by The Boy Who Lived himself some decades ago.”

The Gryffindor rolled his eyes and huffed. “For all I know, your lot could’ve successfully bred another basilisk down in the Slytherin dungeons. You never really know, what with the abundance of interest in the Dark Arts down there.”

Johnny, instead of getting offended, only chuckled. 

“Circe, you’re grumpy today, aren’t you?” teased Johnny. “Must be all that pranking you’ve been involved in for _ weeks _now. Tedious business, if you ask me, but it does keep the masses quite entertained.”

Jaebeom shot him another glare. “Don’t tell me you’re here on Jinyoung’s orders, or I won’t hesitate to jinx you right here, right now.”

“Even in the _ library_? Mate, that’s so Gryffindor of you.”

The response only made the Gryffindor glare harder, which got the taller male to raise his hands placatingly.

“Chill out, Lim. I’m not here on anyone’s orders, but I did hear about how your prank war’s been going.”

“It’s not ‘going’, or whatever it is you’ve heard. I _ refuse _ to keep it going,” Jaebeom grumbled. “If Jinyoung and his cronies just dropped and rolled over, then everybody would've been bloody happier.”

“Doesn’t seem likely, though? It’s Bambam you gotta hand the props to, his persistence and refusal to lose,” Johnny laughed. He pulled out a thick tome from the highest shelf, which he did with such ease, Jaebeom noted a little sulkily.

He wasn't exactly lacking in the height department, but Yugyeom's sudden growth spurt over the summer still stung a little, and Johnny Seo was a veritable giant beside him. Still, Jackson still had it worse—and was quite sensitive about it—so Jaebeom learned not to trouble himself with the subject of height.

“Heard Tuan’s actually out for blood personally, though. Can’t imagine what you did to make him so invested—this is usually Bambam’s circus show all around.”

Jaebeom scoffed. “It’s his show to run when it’s the practical part, all right. But I know it’s all Jinyoung and his apparent ‘genius’ keeping the bloody thing going.”

Johnny chortled as he perused the book he took. “Mate, Jinyoung has no creativity whatsoever in any of his bony limbs.” Seeming dissatisfied with his find, he put the tome back on the shelf and turned back to Jaebeom. “Bambam’s the most creative out of the three of them, and the one with the everlasting energy to keep track of settling the score, so to speak. Mark’s pretty indifferent to all of it, can’t really predict what he cares about or doesn’t. Jinyoung’s just the poor sod who suffers regardless.”

Despite his reluctance to believe it, Jaebeom could picture the long-suffering look on Jinyoung’s face as his younger friend prattled on and on (complete with enchanted diagrams) on how their next prank would go about.

Somehow, his gut gave a slight twinge at the image, but he ignored it as usual. Instead, he shot the taller boy an inquiring glance.

“What business do you have with our petty prank war, Seo?”

Johnny grinned widely. “Oh, _ business_. I do love it when people talk business with me. It’s a beloved hobby, do you know? All these nonsense we’ve been learning, they won’t matter to me once we graduate. I’d be off managing my own business instead.”

Jaebeom had indeed heard of Johnny’s secret _ dealings _ in passing, but he did not actually know the specifics of it. Judging by the look of glee on his face, Johnny was well aware of Jaebeom’s ignorance as well.

“Well, since I heard that Wang failed to set off what could have been a highly entertaining retaliation to Jinyoung and company, I just thought I’d offer my merchandise in the highly probable case that he’d want to try again.”

“What makes you think he’d go to you?” Jaebeom asked dubiously.

“Lim, that’s what you’re here for—to make the idea _ palatable _to your friend. Since we’re fast acquaintances now, and all that,” Johnny said casually.

“What makes you think _ I’d _ go for it?” returned Jaebeom incredulously. “I don’t even know what your _merchandise_ is. Why would I endorse it to Jackson?”

“Oh, nothing too extravagant or anything. Just some handy potions, some of them my own creations, nothing overly complicated,” waved the Slytherin. 

Johnny’s Potions mastery was actually above average, definitely skilled enough that Jaebeom could believe that business was indeed booming for the Slytherin. This, Jaebeom knew for a fact, since he has been working as Johnny’s Potions partner for weeks now. 

But one thing niggled his mind.

“But why would you help _ us_? We’re Gryffindors—if anything, you should be offering your services to your housemates.”

“Of course, Jinyoung and his friends are free to avail themselves of my merchandise, should they wish to do so,” Johnny assured him quite enthusiastically for someone who was essentially _ double-crossing _ and was honest about it, “It’s just that Jinyoung has some _ issues _ with my, ah, _ business practices_. But we have reached an understanding about it, though it also means it’s highly unlikely that he’d interest himself with what I’m selling, so to speak.”

“...And that’s why you’re offering them to me instead?” Jaebeom asked, slowly. 

“Of course not! I do it because in life, I only seek two things: one, business; and two, chaos. I’d say this covers both points well enough,” Johnny smiled cheekily. “But also because a customer, regardless of House, is _ still _a customer. Businessman, remember?”

Jaebeom could only stare at the Slytherin in disbelief.

Sensing that the Gryffindor had nothing else to say, Johnny took over the conversation again.

“Say, remember when I told you about our silly contests at Slytherin?”

Those “silly contests” once involved a hippogriff and some flesh-eating slugs, Jaebeom recalled faintly. 

“What about them?”

“Well, you might be interested to know that Jinyoung is back in the running for Slytherin’s prettiest face this year,” offered Johnny with faux innocence.

“I thought he and Jisoo Kim were placed on an eternal ban for being violent contestants,” Jaebeom mechanically answered, head suddenly filled with the association between a Muggle beauty contest and Jinyoung. 

“Jisoo? Definitely. She’s banned from participating in _ anything _ remotely competitive. Even the most innocent ones, she could turn those into an outright _ bloodbath_.” Johnny made a show of shuddering, as if haunted by an image only he could picture. “As for Jinyoung—he’s just out of the pretty face thing because of his association with Jisoo. But I petitioned for him to be allowed back, and Professor Kibum approved. So he’s back in the competition, officially in the wildcard round.”

At the last sentence, the Slytherin sent Jaebeom a winning smile, which he did not trust, not one bit.

“...Why are you telling me this?” Jaebeom demanded suspiciously.

“Why the suspicion, mate? Just wanted to let you know,” Johnny shrugged (not that Jaebeom would fall for it). “You seemed intrigued, at the very least, when I told you about our little competitions.”

“And what has been at stake at the Slytherin dungeons these days?” Jaebeom asked rather dryly, not buying his new friend’s act.

But Johnny hardly seemed to notice, and prattled off, “Oh! You’d like this one. Aside from the beauty contest, we also have an ongoing competition on who gets sent to the most ridiculous detention ever.”

Unable to help himself, Jaebeom let out a laugh. “Bloody hell, that’s _ ridiculous_. It doesn’t sound like something Slytherins would be interested in.”

In fact, it sounded a lot more like the shenanigans Gryffindors got up to.

“I know! But it’s fun,” Johnny insisted. “Besides, you need to be a lot cleverer if you want to get the professors and prefects to be _ actually _creative with their punishments. Normally, it’s just a night of cleaning or scrubbing, or maybe greenhouse duty. But those are all boring anyway.”

On a second thought—it sounded more Slytherin now, after that explanation.

“Anywho, I’m off, mate. I was actually looking for Tuan when I saw you here instead,” Johnny bid, waving his hand lazily to Jaebeom's direction.

“Why would you look for him here? Don’t you see each other in the dungeons?” 

Johnny’s answering grin was sharp, similar to the parting grin he gave the first time they worked together as partners in Potions.

“Oh, this one’s for business. Tuan’s sorta like someone I’d call a ‘regular’. But like I said, Jinyoung doesn’t approve of some of my business practices, so Tuan and I meet here instead,” explained Johnny, eyes sharp and alert, but still amused.

Jaebeom did not know what to say to that, so he simply nodded.

“Alrighty then! I didn’t close any business today since Tuan is a no show, but I do hope you’d take me up on my offer, Lim!” Johnny waved as he turned away.

“Un-bloody-likely, Seo,” Jaebeom snorted.

“If you need proof, a lot of my customers are willing to provide their glowing recommendations!”

And with that, the tall Slytherin disappeared in between other shelves, leaving Jaebeom standing there alone.

After a beat, Jaebeom let out a curse.

He already forgot which book he was looking for, which was also the reason why he was there in the first place.

*** * ***

* * *

Jinyoung was Stressed.

Of course, his face did not reflect his inner turmoil.

It was rare for him to let himself drop decorum to do something as pedestrian as _ stress out_. But the truth of the matter was, Jinyoung was Stressed.

The whole affair involving Mrs. Armstrong, Mark’s Kraken _ tentacula _(aptly named by the gifter himself, Bambam), had not ended well in his books.

Mark, the only person who was even less likely to drop his impeccable composure than Jinyoung, had simply and completely _ gone mad_.

His friend had bellowed—_unbecoming _ for any respectable Slytherin, Professor Kibum would tut—and displayed his vulnerable points without care. And he did it in front of the people who were the most likely to take advantage of the information.

So indeed, there was due cause for Jinyoung to be stressed.

But the unexpected confrontation was not exactly the reason for Jinyoung’s stress.

The following day after the incident, Professor Kibum had asked Jinyoung and Mark to stay behind after their Transfiguration class. Thinking nothing of it, the pair followed their head of house back to his office.

“I am _ disappointed _in you two,” Professor Kibum started, fixing his electric blue eyes (a feat of Metamorphmagus display, no doubt) on Jinyoung and Mark. “The Slytherin House has long upheld various principles across centuries, but we are most proud of our ability to behave ourselves with poise and maintain composure regardless of the situation.”

Both friends remained silent at their professor’s words. Jinyoung himself secretly agreed with his professor. For Slytherins, maintaining and saving face was an essential defence against the bias against their House. Mark losing his cool like that—it was the exact opposite of keeping up their defences.

The severe disapproval on their professor’s face eased.

“I was informed this morning by our beloved Head Boy himself of the altercation you had with a few students from the other Houses,” their professor spoke. “Prefect Choi himself had reported his concerns, discreetly I might add, to our Head Boy and admirably did not omit his involvement. Seokjin thus chose to do the _ intelligent _thing and informed me immediately.”

“It would have been counterproductive to point fingers,” Jinyoung replied neutrally. “The event was unprecedented, and certain members of the parties present lacked proper information on how to proceed. Hardly anyone was to blame.”

Professor Kibum eyed him for a moment, then chortled. Jinyoung allowed himself to blink in confusion once, before schooling his expression back into neutrality.

“Oh, your way with words has always been admired, Mr Park,” Professor Kibum chuckled. “I could even admit that myself. But your cheek is not appreciated at the moment, no.”

Jinyoung did not know what to say about that, so he kept mum.

Just as well, their head of house seemed like he was not expecting any response.

“Well, now that it has come to my attention, in my official capacity as your head of house, I would have to address it now.”

He paused, looked Jinyoung and Mark straight in the eye, and continued, “I want this thing between you and Messrs Lim, Wang, Choi, and Kim to cease _ immediately_. And I mean, right this instant. I do not want you to engage them or egg them on further, and any attempts from their side shall be met with the appropriate response, namely, the involvement of Professors Chaerin and Sandara as their respective heads of house. I trust that you understand, yes?”

Jinyoung understood him well enough, and indeed, he truly did want nothing more than a ceasefire to the years-long pranking between the two groups. 

But it was _ Mark_, his best friend, who was slighted, pride injured.

It was Mark who had been completely vulnerable in the face of their sworn enemies, and had been absolutely left vulnerable by the entire ordeal. And no one gets away with hurting Jinyoung’s loved ones, not even Jaebeom Lim.

And this time, Mark was _ out for blood_, too, and Jinyoung will always stand by his friend no matter what. So he said nothing, as he knew he’d only be spouting dishonest placations if he ever did.

This did not escape the notice of their professor.

“You do understand, right Mr Park? Mr Tuan?” Professor Kibum repeated with more emphasis.

“Quite, Professor,” Jinyoung simply said.

“I want you to promise that you understood what I said. Say it. Promise me you’d do it.”

“I swear that I _ truly understood _what you expect from us, Professor,” came Jinyoung’s simple reply.

It was the best that he could do without promising anything opposing to what he intended to do, if ever Mark decided for himself what he wanted. 

Professor Kibum glared at him, fully aware how Jinyoung essentially promised him nothing, but ultimately sighed in defeat. “_Well_, I’d say that’s enough effort on my part as your head of house. I have no grand illusions that Slytherins like you do not have your own _ interpretations _of rules and whatnot.”

Jinyoung bit back a smile.

“Oh well, off you go then, children,” Professor Kibum said, waving them away. “Do not bother me again with your silly schoolboy pranks.”

The two Slytherins shared a glance, and with a short farewell, turned to exit their professor’s office.

“Oh, and next time you get yourselves involved in any _ scheming_, perhaps watching out for prefects might do you good?” they heard Professor Kibum call out to them.

Mark rolled his eyes when Jinyoung grinned at him, but said nothing.

Together, they made their way back to the Slytherin common room, where they agreed earlier in the morning to meet with Bambam before heading off to their favorite study spot in the castle.

In the end, no punishment was awarded by their head of house—not that Professor Kibum tended to discipline Slytherins much. He had always been the sort to give the students under his care much leeway and often dismissed their actions as mere antics.

But truth be told, the incident with Jaebeom and his friends was not really the cause of Jinyoung’s stress.

“Oi! Jinyoung Park!” a young, singsong voice called out behind the pair.

It was, actually, young Hyunjin Hwang.

To Jinyoung’s utter surprise, the little kid turned out to be a _ little shit _of epic proportions, to borrow Mark’s vocabulary.

A few days ago, after another letter from his father, Jinyoung approached young Changbin Seo in the Slytherin common room to ask about the “mission” he gave the younger boy. 

Changbin had seemed like an entirely reasonable child, a little bratty and petulant but nothing surprising for Pureblood children. Jinyoung had assumed he would have no compunctions against complying and carrying out the request.

So he was _ flabbergasted _ when young Changbin reported back to him that Hyunjin had refused the offer of friendship he had _ graciously _extended—something which Changbin did not fail to grumble about repeatedly, childish pride wounded and all that.

And to make matters worse, when Jinyoung relayed the story to Mark and Bambam, the two burst out laughing and almost fell back on the couches in the common room, clutching their stomachs (even kicking their legs in the air in Bambam’s case).

Safe to say, Jinyoung found neither of his friends amusing, nor helpful.

The reason for the entire enterprise with Johnny Seo’s favour and young Changbin’s subsequent involvement had been exactly to avoid making unnecessary contact or connections with Hyunjin. The Hufflepuff’s insistence not to “fall in line”, as Jinyoung expected him to, was not appreciated.

Most especially, he was not entirely happy with how the Hufflepuff took it to his own hands to stalk Jinyoung _ everywhere._

To _ make friends _with him.

“Oi, wait up! Jinyoung!” Hyunjin’s soft and childish voice rang again.

Beside Jinyoung, Mark tried to stifle his laugh—to no avail.

“Your little fanboy is here to see you, Jinyoung,” Mark snorted, displaying an uncharacteristic mischievous grin.

“Just ignore him,” Jinyoung muttered under his breath angrily, “And cease your_ laughing, _ Mark!”

Of course, that did nothing to stop his friend from bursting into giggles. Nor did it magically stop Hyunjin Hwang from bounding up to the pair of Slytherins, a small and cheerful smile on his face.

“Hello! I’ve been looking for you all over the castle since last week!” Hyunjin greeted, eyes trained on Jinyoung intently.

Jinyoung found the younger’s gaze unnerving and tried to walk past by, dragging Mark with him.

A tiny but firm grip held him back by the sleeve of his robes.

“Hey, I was talking to you,” whined Hyunjin, pout forming on his face.

Jinyoung, in turn, froze and stared at the hand gripping his sleeve. Chilly, he bit out, “Get your grimy hands off me.”

“Jinyoung,” warned Mark beside him, tense.

Hyunjin didn’t seem to sense the shift in the atmosphere. _ Or he’s willfully ignoring it_, Jinyoung thought darkly. But the younger boy did take his hand back.

“Sorry, you were about to leave, and I wanted to talk to you,” Hyunjin mumbled, looking properly chastised for a moment, before brightening again.

Jinyoung was getting some serious whiplash with how fast the younger boy changed expressions. And that was _ something_, considering he was friends with Bambam.

“I believe your father had already mentioned me to you, but I wanna introduce myself personally, so!” Hyunjin clapped once, breaking Jinyoung’s reverie. “Hello again, I’m Hyunjin Hwang!”

The Slytherin stared blankly at the hand proffered to him. Hyunjin just stood there, beaming and hand held out.

“Just shake his hand and get it over with,” Mark muttered from beside him.

Jinyoung did not take the offered hand.

“You’ve introduced yourself already. My congratulations,” Jinyoung said coldly. “Now leave.”

“But you haven’t introduced yourself back!” complained Hyunjin. He shook his hand insistently as if to remind Jinyoung of the offer.

“Obviously, you already knew me, didn’t you? You had the audacity to _ stalk me _, after all.”

Instead of being hurt by the barbed words, the Hufflepuff only brightened further.

“Oh, that makes sense! You’re so smart, Jinyoung!”

_ Salazar strike me now _, Jinyoung cursed internally. He just wanted the other boy to go away.

As if Hyunjin heard his thoughts and deliberately wanted to act the opposite of what Jinyoung wanted, the Hufflepuff then turned to Mark.

“Hello, my name is Hyunjin Hwang. I suppose you’re either Mark Tuan or…the one called ‘Bambam’,” he said inquiringly, offering his hand to the red-haired male. “What in Merlin is that kind of _ name_? Is he from the continent?”

Mark grinned and shook Hyunjin’s hand. “Why don’t you ask him yourself, then? I reckon Bamie would just _ love _to explain it all to you.”

“_Why _ are you not _ leaving_, brat?” Jinyoung cut in. 

“Why should he? He’s amusing, like a little toy poodle,” Mark retorted, clearly enjoying himself.

“I can’t leave yet,” Hyunjin explained as if he were talking to a child. “I have to spend some time with you, Jinyoung. Be friends, y’know.”

“Why in Salazar’s name would you want that?” Jinyoung asked incredulously. “Or for that matter, why would _ I _?”

“Because my mum said so!”

_ Circe, this again_.

“And you happen to just follow _ everything _ your mum tells you?” Jinyoung responded, sneering. “You’re just her obedient little darling, aren’t you? Following her orders without question—how _lovely_. I suppose if she told you to jump off the Astronomy tower here, you’d only ask her what time?”

“Jinyoung, that’s enough!” Mark’s firm voice broke through the cloud in Jinyoung’s mind. “He’s just a child. Don’t take it out on him.”

The Hufflepuff was biting his lip, eyes huge and slightly wet. But he said nothing.

Jinyoung laughed, but it sounded ugly and rather unhappy. Whirling around, Jinyoung smiled bitterly at his friend. “You know well enough what some _ children _could do at his age, even younger. Especially if it’s under dear mummy’s wise instructions.”

Mark frowned, but said nothing.

“I just wanna be friends with you,” Hyunjin said softly. His eyes were downcast when Jinyoung turned to him. “My mum said you’re really smart, and that you love reading and learning. I love those things as well, and I’m not good with sports and you don’t do sports either, so I thought we could be friends.”

“And your mother knows me so well, doesn’t she? How come?” demanded Jinyoung, eyes flashing in real anger.

The thing was, Jinyoung was not stressed about little Hyunjin’s stalking escapades. Had it been entirely innocent, he would have found the hero worship quite amusing, ironic even. But he suspected that the boy, the same way that little Changbin Seo was ordered by Jinyoung himself was ordered to make friends with Hyunjin, was only being told to go after Jinyoung.

He was stressed about what he suspected was the _ reason _ behind the younger boy’s stalking, and he couldn’t even feel triumphant when his suspicions were proven right.

Ever since the previous summer, when he had been taken ill, Jinyoung had grown wary that things were afoot with his family, and he was not made aware of them.

He could have easily hatched his own plans to investigate, as not knowing your enemy left one at a huge disadvantage. But he had his own secrets separate from family affairs, and those made planning his actions much trickier. Jinyoung was forced to take a much more passive approach, always on the lookout but hardly seeking anything out on his own.

Not until today.

Whatever Hyunjin Hwang’s real objective was, Jinyoung was not having any of it.

“Your dad talks about you to my mum a lot!” Hyunjin protested, bottom lip jutting in a childish pout. “He’s very proud of you, he says you’re cool so I wanna be friends with you!”

Jinyoung scoffed, then smiled sardonically. “Now you’re just embellishing. My father would never say that. And here I thought, little Hufflepuffs value honesty above all.”

Hyunjin opened his mouth to respond, but Jinyoung raised a hand to stop him. 

“I don’t appreciate you following me around like a dog. Cease that,” he ordered. “You’ve introduced yourself to me now—consider your little mission from your darling mother done. Now leave me be.”

He turned his back and strode away, not leaving any room for the Hufflepuff to plead and cry. 

After a beat, he heard Mark’s footsteps and his friend fell in line beside him. Hyunjin did not call out to him again, nor did he follow.

The two Slytherins made the trek to descend to the dungeons, where the Slytherin common room was located.

“You were a bit harsh to that Puff, even for you,” Mark commented idly. He rarely voiced his questions as questions, expecting Jinyoung and Bambam to answer without his asking.

“I offered him the gift of friendship and he refused it. I do not wish to associate myself with him any further.”

“He wanted to be friends with _ you _, not some strangers from another house.”

“_I _ am a ‘stranger from another house’, as you’ve eloquently put,” Jinyoung responded, frustrated. “What would he even do with my friendship? What would _ I _do with his? I already have you and Bambam, and you’re already quite a handful, if I do say so myself.”

Mark’s hand on his arm stopped Jinyoung from his tracks. His deep, dark eyes bore into Jinyoung’s, this time without any trace of humour.

“Tell me the truth now, Jinyoung. Something’s wrong. You’re usually not that callous in any social situation—that’s Jaebeom Lim’s forte, after all.”

Jinyoung sighed and wrenched his arm away. “I can’t tell you yet.”

“Why not? I just saw you being so cruel to a kid—”

“He’s not just some ‘kid’! You can’t set him aside as innocent because he’s just ‘some kid’!” Jinyoung snapped. “You’re well aware how much a child could be capable of, if trained properly by the wrong hands.”

“So it’s about your mother, then.”

“Yes! _ No!_ I mean—maybe?”

Mark only raised his eyebrow in response.

Jinyoung groaned, annoyed with himself. “I don’t know, all right? I swear to you, I really have no idea, Mark. You’re right—something _ is _ wrong. But I don’t have all the clues yet. I cannot, for the life of me, _ tell you anything yet_. I am trying to figure it out.”

His friend remained quiet for a few moments. And then, “You’d tell me as soon as you know, right?”

“Yes, of course, darling,” assured Jinyoung, suddenly tired. He scrubbed a hand to his face.

“I can’t protect you if I don’t even know there’s an enemy that I should be protecting you from.”

Jinyoung smiled despite the situation. “Now who’s getting sappy now, Tuan?”

*** * ***

* * *

October came with sharp, nipping breezes in the morning, and the kind of chill in the air that lingered for longer and longer hours as each day passed.

Things finally settled down around the castle once the first month of the term ended and routines were established.

Jinyoung’s time was divided not quite evenly between schoolwork and obligatory social outings with the “right sort” of people, namely, those he was acquaintances with for subtle but important reasons.

Hyunjin Hwang did not bother him again after their last encounter, and neither Mark nor Bambam (Jinyoung was under no illusion that Mark opted not to inform the younger) made mention of the Hufflepuff either.

While Jinyoung settled back into the familiar routine of schoolwork, his sickness over the summer (which hadn’t truly been cured) also persisted in secret, away from the eyes of the castle’s residents except for Jinyoung’s housemates.

Jinyoung had faith in the age-old tradition of loyalty in the Slytherin house, and he trusted his housemates to uphold the same loyalty that their predecessors had valiantly displayed throughout history—even in the face of adversity, which often came from the scorn of the other Hogwarts houses.

That morning, after fighting off a brief flash of nausea over breakfast which he took alone (as Mark’s cherry red hair was still buried under the covers back in their dorm, and Bambam was busy pestering his cousin Ten about a Transfiguration homework), Jinyoung made his way to the Potions dungeon a little later than normal.

Upon arriving, he found most of his classmates already seated, but instead of a free seat beside Jinri like he had been accustomed to, his fellow Slytherin Krystal Jung was on his seat.

Jinyoung surveyed the entire class. Everybody else was not sitting in accordance to the established arrangement at the beginning of the term.

A little lost on what to do, he approached Doyoung, who was now partnered with Wendy Son from Ravenclaw.

"Doie, what did I miss? Where's Professor Lee?"

"You're late," his childhood friend declared airily, not offering anything else.

Jinyoung suppressed the urge to roll his eyes at the other's antics.

Luckily, Wendy was more than happy to answer his inquiry.

“Oh, you just missed Madam Chaerin. She came by a few minutes ago, left a new list of pairings on her desk. She said she has a meeting with the Headmaster, so she just left us instructions for the day. We’re to meet with our partners for the midterm project.”

“Thanks for telling me, Wendy," Jinyoung smiled. "Do you happen to know who my partner is?"

At the innocent question, Doyoung's head whipped back to Jinyoung's direction.

Jinyoung did not like the odd gleam in the other Slytherin’s eyes, nor the hesitant look that Wendy shot him.

Before any of them could speak, a deep voice echoed around the room:

“It’s me. I’m your partner, Jinyoung.”

Heads turned to Jaebeom’s direction immediately like a bunch of hounds—including Jinyoung. 

Doyoung’s unsubtle nudging broke him from his stupor. “Your partner spoke up already to claim you, Jinyoungie. Better heel.”

Jinyoung wished he didn’t feel as frozen as he felt, because he really would have loved to hex Doyoung’s bunny teeth off his handsome face.

He settled with directing a hateful glare to his friend before he strode over to Jaebeom's table. 

The Gryffindor sat there stone-faced but otherwise calm and composed, and Jinyoung had absolutely no idea how to handle the encounter.

Sliding into his seat, he took a cursory glance at his partner’s chiseled profile to gauge the Gryffindor’s mood, but Jaebeom’s face remained stubbornly blank.

“I apologize for my tardiness, I was feeling a little bit under the weather,” Jinyoung offered with a small, hesitant smile. 

Decorum. When in doubt, the best way to handle a completely unfamiliar situation was to act with complete decorum and tact. That was what his mother used to say to him, when he was younger.

“Everyone is staring.”

“Pardon?”

“Everyone is staring. At us,” Jaebeom repeated, still refusing to face the boy beside him. “Ever since Taeil took the initiative to read the list out loud, everyone’s been staring at me. Now they’re staring at us.”

“Oh.”

The Gryffindor finally turned to Jinyoung, face a mask of frustration. “How can you enjoy this? The attention? It feels like a million bugs are crawling on my skin with the way they’re looking at me. I hate it.” 

Stunned, Jinyoung could only stare at the other boy. 

Jaebeom released an irritated sigh and gathered his bag. Jinyoung snapped out of his reverie when the other boy stood up, forced to scramble for his bag when the Gryffindor glanced at him pointedly.

Jinyoung followed the taller male out of the Potions dungeon. 

“Jaebeom, wait! Where are you off to?”

“The library, obviously” came the blunt reply.

Jinyoung hastened his steps to catch up to the retreating figure, but not without catching Doyoung’s eye.

The other Slytherin was watching them with his doe eyes narrowed, but when their gazes met, Doyoung’s lips quirked sardonically. Jinyoung willed his friend’s robes to catch on fire, but sadly, he did not have Mark’s affinity for nonverbal spells, so nothing happened. 

The unlikely pair made their way through the castle’s halls without a word between them. An odd greeting or two were sent to the Slytherin along the way, who seemed always ready and equipped with an answering smile or a friendly wave.

There were hardly any students in the library when they arrived. 

Jaebeom was about to settle in one of the unoccupied tables when he felt a slight tug on his school robes.

“There’s...a nice secluded table near the back, if you’d prefer to work in peace.”

The Gryffindor raised an eyebrow at the invitation but got nothing in reply. Shrugging, Jaebeom gestured for the other to lead the way.

Jinyoung led his partner near the Restricted Section, to a table positioned directly in front of huge bay windows. 

Once seated, silence reigned between the two again.

Jinyoung was the first to break it.

“Wendy mentioned something about a midterm project earlier, but I wasn’t able to catch what it’s about or when it’s due.”

His partner sighed, moving to get his notes from his bag. 

“Madam Chaerin wants us to brew a complex potion of our choice in class at the end of next month,” he started. “We need to prepare a report explaining our choice, discussing its importance, complexity. We also need a feature a key ingredient, which we will also introduce in the report.”

Jaebeom patiently (if not civilly) explained everything to the other boy.

There was no hint on Jaebeom’s expression or tone that the last time they ever spoke to each other, a giant sentient plant was in danger of killing off their friends.

Jinyoung, for his part, stared at the other boy the whole time.

The boy who never missed a chance to express his displeasure over Jinyoung's existence was sitting in front of him, explaining the rubric of a class project as if it weren’t the first time in six years that they were interacting willingly, without exchanging barbed words. 

“Which potion in the syllabus are you confident enough to brew in class?”

“...Pardon?”

The Gryffindor clicked his tongue. “Didn’t you pay attention to me at all?”

“I certainly paid attention to you.”

“Did you pay attention _ to what I said _ for the last three minutes?”

"I did. I even took down notes," Jinyoung said evenly. He pretended to rummage through a bunch of papers before speaking again, not looking up. “I have a bit of experience brewing draughts. I’ve had a lot of practice over the summer, mostly with medicinal draughts of a wide range. I'm quite confident that we'll do fine if we choose to pursue that strand of research inquiry."

Jaebeom hummed, contemplating what his partner said. "So you want to pick something that's not on the syllabus?"

"Well, I believe we're both fairly competent in Potions. We could take advantage of the multiple uses of draughts to create a well-researched report. If you’re feeling adventurous, which I believe your default is, as a Gryffindor, we could even make recommendations for further study. That's what I think."

"You better be sure we can pull it off," the Gryffindor grumbled.

Jinyoung rested his elbow on top of the table, gazing at the Gryffindor with something akin to amusement. "You know, I'm still catching myself up from the shock that you actually agreed to be my partner."

"I already did the complaining before you got to class. One look from both Wendy and Taeyong and I was back in my seat in no time."

Jinyoung giggled but quickly stifled the giddy sound with a hand pressed to his mouth.

"If you hadn't told me that, I would have gotten the wrong message, you know? Especially with you dragging me out here to the library without preamble," he teased the Gryffindor. "You gotta be careful with my heart, Jaebeom Lim. It's particularly more breakable than most."

Jaebeom's eyes narrowed, not with anger or annoyance, with a look of puzzlement.

"I don't get you, Jinyoung Park. Why do you enjoy saying that crap to me? Can't you take a hint with how I've been acting around you for the past five years?"

"Can't _ you _take a hint? Jaebeom, I like you. I always want to talk to you because I like you."

He said it much more genuinely than he had intended, and Jaebeom looked obviously unsettled by his honesty.

Jinyoung felt a slight pang of regret and embarrassment for the momentary slip, but it wasn’t like he had a TimeTurner at his disposal to remedy his mistake.

"_You like me? _ I don't believe you." 

"That's because you never _ look _at me. The moment you catch sight of me, you start hissing. Like a cat," Jinyoung grinned.

"I'm choosing to ignore that cat comment," Jaebeom said. “And I don't look at you? Plenty of people look at you enough."

"Indeed. But the only person whose opinion I care about has never looked back at me."

Jaebeom's eyebrows furrowed, and it took all Jinyoung's self-control not to reach out to touch the twin moles above his eye. He kept both of his hands hidden on his lap.

He and Jaebeom might have known each other for almost their entire lives, but Jinyoung knew it deep in his heart that the gesture would have been wholly unwelcome in Jaebeom’s eyes. They were sworn enemies since they were children, after all. 

Jinyoung felt fatigue drag his mood down.

The whole business of petty pranking and hating Jaebeom and his friends—it was getting real old, if he were being honest. There were more important things that were occupying his mind, but he also understood that fundamentally, the feud between him and Jaebeom ran a little deeper and more complex than normal childish fights.

“You're weird. And annoying. Do your loyal subjects know that?” Jaebeom appeared to complain, leaning back on his chair. 

"Only you, Jaebeom Lim. And my friends, of course.”

Jaebeom huffed but did not deign the remark with a response. Instead, he tapped Jinyoung's neat notes with a finger.

"Let's get back to the matter at hand," he suggested. "See if we can come up with something concrete that we can work with before we hit the books."

For the rest of the period, the odd pair tossed ideas back and forth. At one point, Jinyoung left their table excitedly and returned three minutes later with a heavy tome in tow. 

They did not notice the passage of time, at least until Bambam barged into their little bubble of privacy.

"Jinyoung, what's this I hear from Doyoung that you ran off—well _ hello, gorgeous _,” Bambam greeted, drawing out the vowels of the last two words. “What brings you here in one of Jinyoung's secret evil lairs, Mr Lim?"

Jinyoung glanced at his watch. "Merlin, would you look at the time! It's almost the end of the first period. You have a second-period class, right?" he asked the Gryffindor.

Jaebeom checked his own pocket watch and nodded. "Yeah, I have D.A.D.A. next period. Jung's been working us extra hard. I have to go.”

He began clearing up the table, haphazardly shoving quills and parchment into his bag. 

Jinyoung took the chance to glare at his friend, wordlessly telling him to keep his mouth shut. Bambam grinned maliciously yet did not say another word.

“Ah, Jaebeom, do you know when we could do this again?” 

Jinyoung tried to keep the eagerness from bleeding into his tone, tried to avoid making it sound like he was scheduling for a next _ hook-up _ instead of a meeting with his partner in a class project.

Judging by the slope of Bambam's raised eyebrow, he missed by a long shot.

Jaebeom stood and lifted his bag. "Can’t say for sure. Quidditch try-outs are coming up soon, as you know, so that’s gonna keep me busy during most of my free time. I'm leaving first."

"Oh. Quite,” Jinyoung answered belatedly, as he stared at the Gryffindor's retreating back.

"_'Quite' _? Really?" Bambam guffawed. "Didn't even look back, did he? How rude of him."

Jinyoung paid him no mind, turning to race after the Gryffindor.

“Jaebeom, wait!”

He caught up to him just as Jaebeom was about to turn left at the end of the corridor.

"Did I forget something?" asked Jaebeom, confused.

"No, I... About the staring: It's not something that I enjoy but I guess it helps that I'm not afraid of bugs," Jinyoung said, laughing nervously. "As for my sentiments for you... I suppose a truce would provide you the proper avenue to _ look _ and see for yourself.”

With a wrinkled eye smile, Jinyoung turned back to the direction of the library, waving a hasty “Have a good day, Jaebeom!” to the stunned figure he left behind.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been getting a lot of comments (and complaints, haha!) about Jaebeom being such an asshole. Honestly - he is such a little shit, isn't he? But I designed his character to be that way. He's gonna be such an ass for a while, sorry folks. But I didn't do it to make everyone empathize with Jinyoung, although that's an unavoidable side effect, because he has his misgivings as well - we just haven't seen them yet.
> 
> When I was working on the initial idea of the fic, I was actually thinking more along the lines of "What if Draco Malfoy was a Gryffindor?" and "What if the Malfoys were on the 'right side' of the war?" Like, think about how a high-brow Pureblood family like the Malfoys would be like, if they weren't 'anti-Muggle'. Think about how their prejudice would manifest, 'good' wizards that they are. That's how I imagined Jaebeom's character. As for Jinyoung, well. We'll have to see. :-)
> 
> Anyway, I just wanted to put this out there as a reminder to myself as well. Haha! There are so many ways that this story could go, but I am committing myself to be as structured as I can so that the end game will be delivered to you all. As always, you can drop in on Tumblr (I am liminalsp-ces there!) and rant at me or make conspiracy theories. ;--)


	5. alea iacta est

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The die is cast. [Julius Caesar]

* * *

Jackson had always been _ loudly _ cheerful during mornings. He whistled merrily, skipped around excitedly, and was generally such a nuisance for people who were most definitely _not _happy during mornings.

Five years (and still counting) of being roommates and Jaebeom has never acclimatised to Jackson’s level of enthusiasm every morning.

But then again, it did not help that Jaebeom himself was the exact opposite.

While Jackson did not seem to need a moment to gather his bearings upon waking up, Jaebeom only became fully conscious after he had his fill of breakfast, always coupled with a strong brew of tea at the Great Hall.

At five in the sodding morning, the differences between the two best friends were even more pronounced.

“Oi, did you even pay attention to what I said at all?” Jackson complained, violently elbowing his friend.

He was annoyingly in high spirits for a little past five in the morning, while Jaebeom himself still felt the insistent pull of sleep on his eyelids, following his friend mechanically through the drafty halls of the castle.

Jackson had shaken him awake about ten minutes ago, already dressed in his Quidditch robes with a wicked grin on his face and the beginnings of a fidgeting brought about by excess energy.

Jaebeom _ really _hated mornings. And morning people.

Chattering incomprehensibly, Jackson reminded him of their agreement over the summer. An agreement to faithfully keep a training regimen for Quidditch every weekend at the crack of dawn for the _entire season_.

As it was, it was indeed the first Saturday of the month. It did not matter that it was a _ Saturday, _of all days—a promise was a promise, and Quidditch was Quidditch.

Thus, with only a groan that could rival a centenarian wizard with creaky joints, Jaebeom crawled out of bed and slowly got dressed.

It took only one step to the chilly corridors for Jaebeom to regret being friends with Jackson.

The castle, usually filled by a symphony of chatter, footsteps, the occasional yelling, and the regular explosions, was deathly silent. 

Candlelight flickered here and there, casting weak shadows in every crevice—only to be chased away by the approaching morning light. Portraits continued to slumber in their opulent frames.

Jaebeom eyed those sleeping portraits hatefully, envious of the luxury of sleep. The sands of sleep still tantalised his fluttering eyelids. (He was decidedly _ never _ going to be a morning lark or whatever bird-related metaphor people associated with mornings. _ Ugh_.)

The only good thing about Jackson’s excitement about mornings and Quidditch training was his passion for breakfast—even if most of his breakfasts (and meals, in general) were disgusting sludges of green _ matter _ disguised as “healthy, delicious, and filling” smoothies.

This passion for breakfast was the reason why the two were on their way to the castle’s kitchens, one nearly bodily dragging the other.

“How can you expect me to listen to you ramble? It’s five sodding thirty in the morning,” Jaebeom groaned in annoyance. “I don’t think the _ sun _ is already out of bed at this hour.”

“We can’t train any later than this, you know that,” Jackson whined, ruffling his own hair in petulance. “By then, the bloody other teams might already be on the pitch for _ their _training. And Seunghoon said it’s the best time to train, and the best way to win the Quidditch Cup, and the best way to—”

Jaebeom shushed his friend. 

They weren’t explicitly breaking any rules for being up at the crack of dawn, but wandering the halls and breaking into the kitchens still counted as rule-breaking.

“Keep it down, you berk. There might be a professor wandering around here somewhere.” 

He didn’t see his friend roll his eyes—not that he had to. Jackson was predictable like that. “It’s five in the morning, Jaebeom. Who else would be up at this hour?”

The Gryffindor pair turned right, and the infamous fruit bowl painting instantly greeted their eyes. As far as secret entrances went, Jaebeom personally thought this was kitschy but clever.

Jackson tickled the pear and the portrait swung open.

And Jaebeom, despite his earlier grumblings, perked up a little at the thought of sneaking in for some delicious breakfast food as he and Jackson climbed through the portrait hole and into the kitchens.

The smell of baking bread instantly assaulted his senses. Jaebeom grinned to himself, delighted. Like muscle memory, he took a step towards the corner where the houselves kept the basket of baked goods. He was stopped in his tracks by Jackson, who elbowed sharply for the second time that morning.

_ “What the bloody fuck?” _ Jackson exclaimed, disbelief colouring his voice.

Jaebeom whipped his head to shush his friend again, maybe send a vindictive Silencing Charm, but Jackson’s wide eyes were not trained on him but rather on _ Jinyoung sodding Park._

_ Jinyoung sodding Park_, who was sitting on the makeshift dining table right in the middle of the kitchen.

The Slytherin hadn’t noticed the two of them yet, despite Jackson’s shout of surprise. 

He was slumped over a huge open tome on the table, already dressed for the day in a blush pink knitted sweater and grey slacks. His school bag—expensive and probably worth an entire middle-class Wizarding family’s mortgage—lay forgotten on the floor.

He appeared to be, in the strictest sense, asleep in the castle’s kitchens.

A really uncomfortable slumber, from where Jaebeom was standing and gaping at the tableau in front of him. 

“What the bloody hell is he doing here?” Jackson whispered, agitated.

“How should I know?” Jaebeom hissed back, suddenly uncomfortable to see the Slytherin so unexpectedly. 

His weirdly civil interaction with Jinyoung was still fresh on his mind.

The combination of faux innocent charm and unsettling candour never failed to drive Jaebeom up the wall. A foolproof way that Jaebeom himself resentfully acknowledged as effective, especially since he knew all of it meant quite the opposite. Jinyoung was all smiles when he actually seethed inside, polite and charming when he was actually scornful.

A hypocrite and habitual liar. 

And Jaebeom, well, _ he _ knew better. Which was the _ only _ reason he felt unsettled by the Slytherin’s recent behaviour.

He suspected it was Jinyoung’s new way of riling him up. He must have been plotting over the entire summer.

It was the only explanation that made sense.

“D’you reckon the prat’s...dunno, _ dead_?” Jackson tentatively said, still eyeing the slumped figure warily. “Should we risk it and _ check_? How about I keep watch at the entrance and you—”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Jackson. He’s breathing,” Jaebeom muttered, rolling his eyes.

“Well what’s he doing here, then? He can’t find it comfortable to sleep here, can he?” his friend shot back, now annoyed.

Jackson turned back to Jinyoung, an odd mix of emotions flashing in his eyes.

It occurred to Jaebeom belatedly that this was the first time since the greenhouse incident that Jackson and Jinyoung were in direct vicinity of each other. He wondered how long it would take before a fight broke out. He also thought how unsuccessful he would be if he were to act as mediator between the two.

His friend surprised him when he stepped further into the kitchen, completely bypassing Jinyoung’s sleeping form. Jackson picked up two pieces of apples from a basket in the corner, examining both closely.

“So you’re just gonna ignore him like that?” Jaebeom blurted out.

“What do you mean?”

Jaebeom threw his friend a withering glare. Jackson perfectly knew what he meant.

“Well,” Jackson began, drawing out the last syllable, “No point to it, is there? He’s asleep. I’m not _ that _of an arse.”

“Well it’s Jinyoung.”

“So what?”

“You never miss to react badly when it’s Jinyoung.”

At that, Jackson snorted unattractively. “Me? _ You’re _ the one who’s always one breath away from getting triggered whenever Park is around. Sure, I loathe the prat and all that. But it’s so _ personal _for you, mate.”

“We _ both _ hate him—that’s a given!”

“Aw, come on! Can’t I just enjoy a nice morning without letting him ruin my mood and appetite? Who knows, he might drop dead on his own—”

“You can’t possibly think I’d believe you don’t want to do _ anything _ right now,” Jaebeom insisted.

He felt unsettled by Jackson’s total lack of interest to retaliate against the Slytherin.

The perfect opportunity was _ right there_. Jinyoung had no backup. There were no professors or prefects around. The Slytherin was basically—

“Mate, believe me when I say I always want to sock the bastard right in his perfect princely face whenever I see him. But worst enemy or not, right now he’s just some poor, overworked sod,” Jackson said, not unkindly.

“It’s not just some unconscious prat—it’s _ Jinyoung sodding Park_,” insisted Jaebeom, shaking his head. But as he said the words, Jaebeom realized how utterly ridiculous he sounded.

Jinyoung was fast _ asleep _ and _ defenceless, _for Merlin’s sake.

“Ugh, sod it—let’s just pack some food and eat at the pitch,” Jackson groaned, albeit good-naturedly, walking around the kitchen table to latch onto Jaebeom’s arm. “You’ll take me out on a breakfast date, won’t you Jaebeommie?” He batted his eyelashes exaggeratedly for good measure.

Jaebeom, taking the offered diversion, rolled his eyes and shoved his friend—albeit weaker than he would have liked. “Get the bloody hell away from me, Wang,” he grumbled. The effect was ruined when he immediately chuckled after.

“Where’re the ‘elves, anyway?” Jackson pointed out. He broke away completely from Jaebeom and stepped closer to inspect a bubbling pot on the large industrial stove.

Before Jaebeom could respond, a loud crack had the two of them jumping, wands drawn.

Two hunched over shapes appeared in the middle of the kitchen.

“Oi! A little _ warning _would have been appreciated!” Jaebeom hissed once he recognized the pair’s odd ensemble as the Hogwarts houselves’ uniform.

“Tinky is asking for pardon, Master Jaebeom, but Tinky is to stop before Master Jackson or Master Jaebeom wakes Master Jinyoung!” one of them squeaked, not without a little hint of indignation. “Master Jinyoung supposes to sleep like other students, but Master Jinyoung always go to the library to be reading and scribbling! Master Jinyoung is going but doesn’t sleeping!”

Tinky was one of the friendlier houselves in the castle's kitchens and arguably Jaebeom’s favourite. She always made sure that there was a warm sandwich on reserve for him during mornings when he’s running late for class.

But as it turned out, _ they _weren’t precisely Tinky’s favorite. And judging by her stern pose, not by a long shot.

“Well, Tinky, if _ Master Jinyoung _ is supposed to be asleep like the brilliant student that he is, why in Merlin’s bollocks is he _ here _ in the kitchen?” Jackson asked sourly.

“Better to asleep here in the warm kitchens than cold library corridors!” the other house-elf squeaked. “Better in here than outside!”

“You mean, outside, in the corridor?” Jackson commented dryly.

“No! Pippi means outside _ in grass_! Master Jinyoung asleeps in grass when he supposes to studying! When he supposes to asleep like other students!”

Jackson glanced at Jaebeom, who met his gaze immediately. Unease was reflected in both of their eyes.

In the years that they have known Jinyoung, this was the first time that they had encountered him in the kitchens. And they were down there _ a lot_. Either the kitchen visits at dawn—not to mention the sleeping, or the _ not _sleeping, rather—was a new habit, or it was not something that Jinyoung Park advertised to anyone.

Jaebeom privately wondered if Jinyoung’s closest friends even knew of this. Probably. He and Mark Tuan were roommates, after all, and they were always in each other’s pockets. It was unsettling, actually. Doesn’t really help with all the rumours about the nasty debauchery Slytherins got up to in their dormitory.

“I think we should just leave,” sighed Jackson. He cast another glance at Jinyoung, then turned to the house-elves. “We’re sorry. We didn’t know he’d be here. Could you please wrap up some sandwiches for me and Jaebeom, though? We’ll take our breakfast outside so we won’t disturb this one.”

Pippi eyed him a little more approvingly. Tinky only rolled her large eyes. Definitely not _ her _favourites, then.

“Master Jackson is making polite to Pippi and Tinky, so Pippi is making breakfast for Master Jackson. Master Jaebeom is be allowed to share Master Jackson’s breakfast.”

She disappeared with another crack, and returned shortly after with a wicker basket on hand. Jaebeom couldn’t help but be charmed, despite himself.

The two Gryffindors thanked the houselves graciously, who only waved away their thanks with discomfort and busied themselves with random kitchen tasks. The best friends were soon left to their own devices, but not without one final warning glance from Tinky herself.

They stood there for a few moments, awkward.

“So...do we just leave him there?” broached Jackson, eyeing Jinyoung. The Slytherin slept through the entire ordeal, with no indication of stirring anytime soon.

Jaebeom almost felt pity for Jinyoung, or his hunched form at the very least. He himself had injured his back a few years ago, and despite the Healers’ assurances that he was entirely healed, Jaebeom still felt phantom pains whenever the weather did not agree with him.

With a put-upon sigh, Jaebeom dragged his best friend back out of the warm kitchen and into the chillier corridor.

Better to leave sleeping dogs—or sleeping snake, rather— lie, and all that.

“Come on. We better head down to the pitch before anyone else—”

“I need to tell you something,” said Jackson, as he pulled away from his friend before they could leave the corridor leading to the kitchens.

To his credit, Jaebeom immediately stopped in his tracks.

His friend had sounded apprehensive and a bit guilty.

“It’s about Jinyoung. Well, not about _ him _ exactly. It’s—”

“Oi! Sneaking in the kitchens already? At this bloody hour!?” 

The best friends jumped, guilty expressions on their faces, fearing for their hides in case it was a teacher or a prefect.

But the guilt transformed into annoyance (Jackson) and dread (Jaebeom) when they saw the newcomers.

“I admire the dedication, lads, but I thought I could have expected you in the pitch, not the kitchens,” ribbed Seunghoon, the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. He had a casual arm slung around Mino, another teammate.

“We were just about to head down!” complained Jackson as Seunghoon threw his other arm around him.

“Did you get breakfast for all of us, at least?” teased Mino, scratching Jackson’s chin as if he were Mino’s cat.

“Get your own! Tinky and Pippi prepared this for us!”

“Oh, I reckon it’s best if you don’t eat anything before training,” Seunghoon said casually. “Wouldn’t want my best Beaters barfing up all over the grass during drills later.”

“Drills? You said today’s gonna be a light day, ease back into the game and all that shite,” Jaebeom pointed out, suspicious and dreadful both. “Come to think of it, why are _ you _already up? Aren’t we supposed to start at ten?”

Their captain had the gall to cackle at their faces. “You sweet little darlings,” he crooned.

“He only said that because one of the Slytherin Chasers had an Extendable Ear planted by the Gryffindor table,” Mino chortled. “So now the snakes all think we won’t be getting any serious about training for at least a couple of weekends—”

“—When in reality, we go entirely a hundred and ten percent starting today,” Seunghoon finished proudly.

Jaebeom glanced at Jackson once again, trying to communicate how much he regretted ever getting out of bed that morning.

His weekends now officially suck.

*

* * *

*

“Jisoo Kim, you are, without any doubt, the most wretched _ cow _in my life!” 

Doyoung shook violently in his thin sweater and jeans, stomping after Jisoo’s footsteps. A few other choice words were added to his litany, as the chill morning breeze blew deceptively around them.

The misleading image of serenity was contradicted by the hard bite of the cold.

Doyoung drew his wand and with an impatient flick, he Conjured a steaming mug filled with dark liquid. He blew on it with the same lack of care before taking a tentative sip.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee instantly filled the air.

From behind, Jinyoung eyed the warm drink speculatively.

He himself was just as miserable as Doyoung, barely dressed for the weather like his friend. He was thankful enough that he did manage to slip on a pair of mittens before leaving the comfort of their dormitory—not that it did him any good.

Jinyoung rubbed his hands briskly, glancing at Doyoung’s drink again.

Vaguely, he wondered whether the chill was unforgiving enough for him to make a grab for it. But then he remembered the last time he casually took a sip of Doyoung’s preferred drink, and the distinct “toxic sludge” flavour that lingered for _ days _ at the back of his throat.

The memory was enough to make him wince, and he smartly inched away instead.

“Doyoung, you are such a delight this fine morning, truly,”Jisoo drawled, skipping carelessly ahead. She was the only one smartly dressed for the sudden cold snap that week.

While the two boys trailing behind her were nearly frozen in their casual pants and thin sweaters, Jisoo looked fetching in a thick, emerald leather jacket and heeled dragonhide boots. Not surprising, since she was the one who roused them forcefully from their beds earlier.

Their odd little group was making their way briskly to the castle grounds, towards the banks of the Black Lake. Jisoo, as the unofficial organizer of their impromptu outing, was unforgiving in the pace she set.

Jinyoung’s own boots crunched on shallow puddles which had frozen overnight. He sighed, “While I don’t share Doyoung’s tendencies for exaggeration, I certainly do not disagree with him. This is _ wretched_.”

Doyoung whipped around so fast his drink sloshed dangerously in its container.

“What is truly _ wretched _ is your tireless baiting of the school’s shallowest prat for five straight _ years _ with no sign of giving it a rest!” he sneered, nostrils flaring. “What’s _ wretched _ is the childish feud you insist on sustaining with him and his merry band of losers. _ That’s _what’s wretched, Jinyoung.”

If it were anybody else, Jinyoung wouldn’t have taken that kind of tone from them, surprising as the accusation’s timing was.

But Doyoung wasn’t just _ anybody_, Jinyoung supposed.

He has been Jinyoung’s friend since he was practically in his nappies, and he knew his friend was always rather testy in the mornings especially before his second cup of coffee. Jinyoung tried not to take offense when Doyoung was like that. 

Safe to say, Doyoung was also not Jaebeom Lim’s biggest fan.

Jisoo startled them both when she let out a loud, snorting cackle.

The sound was uncharacteristic—a sound which definitely did not belong to the careful elegance of Jisoo’s visage.

“Arrogant berk, not to mention, isn’t he,” Jisoo commented with a goading grin.

She skipped childishly ahead in her thick heeled boots, hands clasped behind her back. 

Jinyoung envied the warmth of her fancy boots. He shivered, then sniffed. He _ really _should’ve taken the time to dress appropriately before going outside.

“Precisely! Always prancing around the castle like he and his snivelling little boyband invented The Good That Defeats All Evil,” Doyoung nodded, now impassioned.

He turned to Jinyoung, the hand carrying the half-drank coffee swinging. Jinyoung stepped farther away to avoid the hot liquid. It was a wonder how Doyoung could drink beverages that would have scalded most people.

“I ought to smack some sense into that thick skull of yours, Jinyoung, honestly. Running after Jaebeom Lim like a _ sodding _—you’re top of our entire class!”

“Yes, yes, you’ve made your point perfectly clear, Doyoung,” Jinyoung agreed rather patronisingly. “It’s only the millionth time you’ve told us your opinion about Jaebeom Lim.” From the corner of his eye, he spotted Jisoo watching them, clearly entertained.

“Have I, truly? Because I don’t see any improvement in your actions, I’d say,” his friend countered.

Jinyoung rolled his eyes heavenwards. 

Doyoung gulped down the rest of his drink, and muttered to himself, “Trailing after Lim like a tethered hippogriff, ha! Top of our sodding class, indeed.”

He Vanished the mug after that, and plopped down on the damp grass without care. He leaned back on his arms and yelled, “Circe, I’m knackered! Oi Jisoo, you fucking harpy, I’m not walking in this bloody weather any further!”

Doyoung was hardly ever the most posh speaker in their school (Jinyoung was in the top three—he could admit that, at least.) But his language always was the next to go when he was tired, right after his patience and temper.

He was not quite the opposite of Jisoo, but he was the complement to a lot of her qualities. 

He was just as obsessed with academics as Jinyoung, regardless if their “why” differed vastly.

It was a good thing, either way, as Jisoo rarely applied herself in “trivialities like competing for a letter which could hardly measure my worth as a witch.” She had always been a firm believer that money (her money, in particular) was more than enough to maintain the life she wants.

“All right, fine! Stay put and I’ll be over!”

In a rare display of consideration for her friends’ well-being, Jisoo doubled back to their direction with a dark look on her face. She followed Doyoung’s example and lowered herself primly on the ground, uncaring about her expensive clothes.

“You need to get out of the library more, Doie. You are in terrible shape,” she lectured with an air of huffy complaint. She toned it down by elbowing her friend playfully, although nothing ever was “playful” for Jisoo Kim--Doyoung nearly toppled over from the force of her friendly “nudge.”

“Jinyoung’s no better than me, you ought to tell him the same,” argued Doyoung, but it was weaker now. The cold was getting to him, evident when he scooted closer to Jisoo, still shivering.

Jinyoung took pity on him and cast a durable Warming charm on both of them.

Unlike them, he took the time to Conjure a blanket and laid it on the ground before sitting himself. Almost as an afterthought, he Conjured two more and sent those to cover up his friends.

“Our darling Jinyoung’s ill—of course he’s out of shape. But not for long, I reckon.”

Doyoung’s lips curled into a fake smile. “Jinyoung wasn’t _ ill _ enough to run after Lim at Potions yesterday, were you, Jinyoung? I’d wager you could join the Quidditch try-outs next week at this rate.”

Jisoo snorted. “Ha! And have him back in Hyunwoo Son’s direct line of sight? I’d pay good Galleons to see that!”

“I already heard judgement from Mark last night,” spoke Jinyoung, tired of the topic already. Indeed, he _had _heard it from Mark, all right—the silent treatment when they met up in the evening was loud enough for him to get the message. “I don’t suppose you could spare us all the effort—”

“Nonsense, Jinyoung. _ I _haven’t heard about it. I wanna hear about what’s gotten Doyoung right in a fucking fit,” Jisoo interjected, grin shark-like.

She nudged Doyoung with the tip of her boot, earning her a hateful glare which she blatantly ignored. “Well go on, pet. _ Regale _us with your fantastical tale of Jinyoung’s elopement with Jaebeom Lim.”

“I highly doubt anyone would have called that ‘eloping’,” came Jinyoung’s protest. Jisoo silenced him with a sharp kick and a wider, more malicious grin. How her leg could have reached him with the fair distance between them, Jinyoung hadn’t the faintest idea.

“As I was saying before I was _ rudely _interrupted—” Jinyoung couldn’t help but roll his eyes at that, “—Jinyoung just about scandalised everyone yesterday at Potions when he ditched the classroom with Jaebeom fucking Lim to play truants! That’s typical for a Gryffindor, sure, but definitely unacceptable for us Slytherins!”

“We weren’t playing _ truants_. We went to the library and made significant headway on our midterm project, if you must know.”

Doyoung paid him no mind. “Honestly, the audacity of that self-important arsehole! Dragging Jinyoung off wherever he pleased—” 

“I thought _ you _said we were playing truants,”Jinyoung remarked dryly. 

“—and generally acting like he’s above us all! Just because he’s from a family of heros from _ both _ Great Wizarding Wars, and _ we’re _a bunch of little Dark Lords in-the-making, aren’t we?”

Doyoung was many things—sharp, impatient, and critical. He was, most importantly, not Jaebeom’s biggest fan.

“Must we _ really _argue about this over and over again?” Jinyoung complained.

The cold did not bother him now, but he wasn’t really fond of staying out by the lake’s banks either. The Giant Squid was not exactly a favourite of his, and every moment spent by the slush of grass and mud was another chance to sight the vile and creepy creature.

Jinyoung tried to suppress a shiver—this time, not due to the chill in the air.

“Well then, perhaps you’d like if we discussed our formal Manifestation instead,” Jisoo said casually, heedless of the sharp glares from both her friends. “We hardly ever did get the chance to make our plans over the summer.”

“Jisoo!” Doyoung hissed. “Don’t just go about talking about _ that _in public! Anyone could have overheard—”

“We’re hardly in the company of others, pet,” tutted Jisoo, wagging an elegant finger as if reprimanding naughty schoolboys. 

When neither of her friends’ expressions eased, she rolled her eyes. “Oh, _ Salazar-forbid _anyone finds out about Jinyoung’s weakness for the male beauty in the form of broad-shouldered Jaebeom Lim. And Hyunwoo Son.” She ignored Jinyoung’s resounding protest and muttered, “Not that I can blame him for that last bit, bloke is fit as fuck, I suppose. If you’re into that.”

Jinyoung groaned, “Let’s not discuss _ that _either,” the same time that Doyoung snapped, “That wasn’t what I meant, hag!”

“Well it’s all connected, isn’t it?” Jisoo argued with false innocence. “Our Manifestation certainly would not be up for discussion if Jinyoung hadn’t done some sacrifices himself. _ Virginal _sacrifices, even, if you quite catch my drift.”

Jinyoung’s face was aflame. “Please just _ stop._”

“Come now, pet. Nothing to be ashamed of, you know. The Grimoire was poetic in its language but the requirement was clear—”

“Don’t talk so casually about the Grimoire either,” muttered Doyoung with gritted teeth.

“But that’s precisely why I dragged you two out here!” pouted Jisoo. “You think I enjoy being out in the cold when the sun is barely up? I have something important to tell you, _ obviously_, and we shan’t be overheard by anyone if we’re out here.”

“I think you enjoy torturing Doyoung and I.”

“That’s already a given, darling. Cease your pouting so we could get down to business.”

The glint in Jisoo’s eye signalled to both Jinyoung and Doyoung that she meant it this time, and there was no joking around to be had anymore.

“Right then,” she said, pleased as she can be.

Jisoo straightened her leather jacket and grinned. “Originally, we were meant to move things along to the official vein last summer. You’d remember we had the perfect chance to do the Declaration of Intent over summer solstice, but Jinyoungie here fell a bit under the weather—”

“Under the weather, sure. How quaintly put, Jisoo,” Doyoung said testily.

The sinister warning in Jisoo’s half-lidded eyes was enough to keep him mum, albeit mutinuous.

“As I was saying, our original timeline was interrupted by unforeseen circumstances, indeed. And normally, wizards who wish to Manifest would have no problem to wait patiently for the witching cycle to restart and do it right.”

“But we can’t,” mumbled Jinyoung, eyes staring at the grass blankly. “We _ have _ to Manifest officially this year. It’s of utmost importance that we do everything _ this year_.”

“I was just getting to that part, yes,” Jisoo answered with faux patience, as if talking to a child. “_ As I was saying_, I had some free time last night and I believe I have it.”

“Have what?” Doyoung prompted.

“Our new Manifestation timeline, of course!”

Doyoung and Jinyoung shared a look, which had Jisoo pouting and kicking up a fuss—quite literally.

Jinyoung yelped, as he was the one to fall victim to Jisoo’s freakishly long reach, and rubbed briskly at the side of his right thigh where his friend’s boot had hit him.

“But...we missed the solstice. We can’t start our initial rites on a non-solstice night,” he said slowly.

Jinyoung understood implicitly what his friend was trying to convey, but he couldn’t quite allow himself to feel hopeful yet until the words have been spoken out loud.

Since discovering that he was too ill to get out of bed for the rest of the summer, Jinyoung had seemed uncharacteristically glum and quite frustrated to his father’s eyes. The older wizard had chalked it up as disappointment that he would not be able to frolic carelessly around the continent with his “degenerate” friends, as he liked to refer to Jinyoung’s childhood friends (mostly Jisoo). 

He was not entirely wrong, but it was not the entire reason either.

After the three of them had all turned fifteen the summer before their fifth year, Jisoo had come to them with a wild and excited energy buzzing under her skin, a huge and ancient-looking tome hooked under her thin arm: the Grimoire.

She had stolen it in a fit of petty rebelliousness from her family’s forbidden archives, wanting to spite her uptight mother. Immediately, she summoned her oldest friends after discovering the names of their ancestors written in gold inside, alongside with her own ancestors.

Together, the three of them flipped through its thin pages for the first time (though certainly not the last).

And for their entire fifth year, the trio of childhood friends, children of Pureblood families with unspoken ties to Dark Wizards, had gone on a journey of preparing themselves mind and body to Manifest as Dark themselves. 

The step-by-step rituals and the accompanying lore were clear in their message: Timing was of utmost importance, and every ritual had to be performed in time with every important day in the witching cycle.

Symbolism was everything, and so was intent. Everything had its perfect place, and every action had significance.

Missing the summer solstice, the designated day of the Declaration of Intent and considered the start of the witching cycle, had been a huge frustration for Jinyoung.

The Grimoire had been a source of, well, not exactly hope.

Jinyoung did not do “hopeful,” his mother made sure of that. But it was something to _ hold on to _, something to focus on, a means to an end.

And if that meant hoping, Jinyoung found he really did not care anymore.

What Jisoo was saying now...

“Have a little faith in me, darling,” Jisoo tutted. “I wouldn’t have dragged you both out here to offer you baseless stories.”

Jinyoung grinned, half-heartedly. “You don’t exactly inspire ‘faith’ to people, Jisoo.”

In the middle, Doyoung snorted. “More like hysterics.”

Jisoo ignored them both. “Yes, we missed the summer solstice. And yes, it is a vital element in fulfilling the first of many rituals. But you forget—there are _ two _vital elements when Manifesting, and it is not just time.”

“Intent?” Jinyoung raised questioningly. “What about it?”

“What’s _ not _ about it?!” Jisoo exploded with mad excitement, making the two boys jump. “_Intent _ ! Magic itself is built upon the foundation of intent! Without intent, our wands are useless sticks that occasionally spark, never capable of actual spellwork. _ Intent_!”

She finished her quick rant with an enthusiastic whack to Doyoung’s arm, whose face contorted in an attempt to hold back a pained groan.

“Yes, I’ve gathered that,” Doyoung responded dryly, rubbing his arm, “but _ what about it_?”

“Oh, you poor fool,” Jisoo simpered with fake pity. Doyoung just about pushed her into the lake, if Jinyoung hadn’t stared him down into backing down.

Jinyoung turned back to Jisoo. “So, you managed to find a way to work around the requirements of time? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Ding, ding, ding! Fifty points to Slytherin, to the smartest boy in our year.”

Jinyoung felt the tendrils of _ not_-hope unfurling within him. “So we could still do the rituals? Together? We could still—”

“Become the evil little Dark Lords in-the-making everyone has been expecting us to be? Quite right, darling,” confirmed Jisoo, patting him on the head.

“When you put it that way, I suppose it does make sense,” Doyoung mused, more to himself than to his companions. “I assume we would still have to work with the important dates in the witching cycle, but if we modify the element of intent well enough, we could probably come up with relatively similar results.”

“I’m not sure I quite like the sound of ‘relatively similar results,’” said Jinyoung. But he was smiling, a bit. It was a start.

“We might have to set aside another time to work on rewriting our intent, possibly the wording of the chants. Salazar, we might even have to rewrite our own spell incantations!” Doyoung continued, eyes sparkling with clarity and interest.

Of the three of them, he was probably the only one with less-than-personal (less than selfish, too) reasons in pushing through with their formal Manifestation. Ever the curious scholar, Doyoung had agreed almost immediately with Jisoo’s proposition at the chance to know more about the untapped potential of Dark Magic.

“All right, that settles it for _ this _ huge nerd. How about the other huge nerd here?” Jisoo asked, eyeing Jinyoung.

“You already know my answer,” replied Jinyoung.

“You’re the one who always goes on and on about the importance of saying things out loud.”

Jinyoung rolled his eyes, but his face expressed fondness instead of exasperation. “Obviously, yes.”

Jisoo sprang up suddenly to her feet. “That settles it, then! Get up now, my darlings! Up!” She held out both of her hands parallel to the ground, right above her friends, posed as if ordering two broomsticks to fly to her hands.

Jinyoung felt absolutely fond of the crazy witch.

Doyoung, grumbling, lied down on Jisoo’s vacated spot. “Where the bloody hell do you want to head off now, you hag?”

“It’s Hogsmeade weekend, fool! I want to be the first in line today, I know Jennie’s the prefect in charge of seeing students off at the castle’s entrance today.”

“It certainly is a wonder why she puts up with you. You’re mental,” Jinyoung informed her, brushing off the grass stains on his robe.

Doyoung grumbled but rose up to his feet as well. “Obviously, she’s mental too,” he muttered. 

“Aww, of course you’re still my favourites. I wouldn’t be Manifesting as a Dark Witch with anyone else,” cooed Jisoo. She linked her arms to Doyoung and dragged him off ahead, Jinyoung trailing behind them with a slight shake of his head.

They were trudging back up to the castle when Jisoo flipped her hair off-handedly and glanced back to Jinyoung.

“Jinyoung, darling, my mum’s been asking after you again.”

She affected an air of nonchalance, but the boy in question tensed up all the same.

A million things ran through his mind as he processed the message Jisoo had subtly delivered.

Jihyun Kim, Jisoo’s mother, was no stranger to him. Her curiosity over Jinyoung was nothing new, really.

But it wasn’t the type of embarrassing parental interest mothers often had over her child’s friends, curious about the type of children her own child was playing with in the playground or studying with at school.

For one thing, she hardly ever even remembered that Jisoo had another friend in Doyoung.

It was the type of interest that was unwanted for a completely different reason.

The fact that Jihyun was “curious” about Jinyoung’s life at the moment only meant one thing: For some reason, Jinyoung’s mother must have been asking after him again.

“Oh? What did you tell her, then?” Jinyoung asked lightly. 

The morning chill suddenly seemed like nothing compared to the bolt of ice that ran down his spine at Jisoo’s casual remark.

“You know I’d never tell that hag anything, willingly or not—” Jinyoung’s breathing, which he did not notice stopping, eased a little, “—but I _ didn’t really have to _ . Doyoungie was over at the manor a lot during the summer and _ you weren’t._”

“_I told you_,” Doyoung butted in, “we should’ve just gone to Jinyoung’s house even if he couldn’t get out of bed long enough to open the door. It’s not like anyone but the house-elves would’ve opened up, anyway.”

“And _ I _told you, Jinyoung’s father hates my mum. He hates her and he hates me by extension,” countered Jisoo, annoyed by the old argument. “I’d never risk the wards smiting me when I get near enough.”

Jinyoung heaved a huge sigh but did not disagree. His father _ was _an absolute arse to Jisoo whenever they encountered each other. He did not put it past the older Jinyoung Park to put up wards against Jisoo specifically.

“Also, full offense, Jinyoung, but I still haven’t forgiven him when he denied me entry in your Floo that one time when we were fourteen. I might never forgive the paranoid bastard, at this point.” 

“Do you think _ she _knows about us? Our Manifestation, I mean.”

Jinyoung did not really need to elaborate on who he was referring to.

“That’s impossible,” Doyoung immediately dismissed. “No one knows we’re Manifesting, not even Jinyoung’s best friends.” He snuck a glance back to Jinyoung, who was lagging behind a bit. “You haven’t told Tuan and Bhuwakul anything, have you?”

Jinyoung blanched. “Of course not!”

“Why would he? He’s too fond of them to let them know about who he really is,” Jisoo said in a sing-song voice. “You know our darling Jinyoung, he likes to convince himself he’s a good person. That’s why he loves chasing after Jaebeom Lim, you know. The Prince of the Light, himself.”

“That’s enough, Jisoo,” warned Doyoung.

He glanced at Jinyoung again, who tried to school whatever expression was on his face to pleasant neutrality.

“Please, for the love of Circe, from now on let’s be real careful when we talk about Manifesting,” pleaded Doyoung.

“Whatever you say, Doyoungie,” answered Jisoo.

“And if your mum asks you about absolutely anything, be it Jinyoung or Manifesting, just make up some topic and _ talk_. She could never keep up with you when you start talking shit, anyway.”

“You got it, Doyoungie.”

“You’re funny, Jisoo,” Jinyoung said, apropos to nothing.

“Of course, darling.”

*

* * *

*

It was still quite early to be up on a weekend, at least in Jaebeom’s standards, but today was a Hogsmeade weekend. He could make exceptions for little outings like this from time to time, he supposed.

Jackson had already dragged off Youngjae to Honeydukes, no doubt for a refill of his secret stash of sweets.

He could wax poetic about the benefits of eating healthy all he wanted, but Jaebeom knew the truth. He knew about the small chest of sweets hidden in Jackson’s trunk. He certainly knew about the regular arrival of packages from Jackson’s mum, which somehow always “magically” included Hong Kong sweets Jackson never asked for.

Yugyeom surprised them all when he said he wanted to go with Jaebeom instead of the other two.

“You don’t want to buy _ candy_? _You_, Yugyeom Kim?” Jackson had protested when Yugyeom said he’d go with Jaebeom instead. He even went for the kill when he said, “We’re going to Weasleys’ after, y’know!”

“I just don’t feel quite awake yet, I’m still sleepy,” was Yugyeom’s only reply.

As such, Jaebeom led a solemn Yugyeom towards his favourite shop, hidden at the less frequented area of Hogsmeade, which sold a few bits and baubles of Muggle and Wizard items alike. He became a frequent customer there when he discovered they sold both Muggle and magical film rolls there.

“You sure you’re okay, ‘Gyeom?” asked Jaebeom tentatively.

He was never really good at this type of thing, the nurturing and prying, comforting. Jackson was the more affectionate one, while Youngjae was an absolute saint because of his endless patience.

Jaebeom was the gruff older brother who was a hit-and-miss when it came to expressing affection. But there was never a doubt that he cared for all of his friends, no.

“Duh, of course!” replied Yugyeom with a roll of his eyes. “I just wanted to go to Weasleys’ when Jackson’s not around, I was going to look for something to use to prank him.”

Jaebeom was quite sure the sass was forced, but it still made him instinctively cuff the younger Hufflepuff in the shoulder. Yugyeom had gotten real _ tall._

“Ow!”

“I’m not having any of your insolence today,” Jaebeom lectured, but the effect was ruined when he grinned and chuckled.

Yugyeom grinned back, genuine this time.

“But you’re my favourite person to bug,” he whined, slinging an arm around the older Gryffindor. “You always get huffy and grumpy, it’s always worth it.”

Jaebeom elbowed him, but Yugyeom’s sharp Chaser reflexes had him dancing away just in time, bursting into laughter.

At least he was smiling now.

“Worth the arse-kicking, huh? You just wait, Yugyeom Kim. I’ll knock you off your broom and beat you ‘Puffs next month.”

If he hadn’t been looking right at his friend’s face, Jaebeom might have missed how Yugyeom’s smile dimmed a little at that. But when he blinked, Yugyeom was back to heckling the older boy about winning against Gryffindor by a landslide, and Jaebeom wondered if he had just been looking into things a little too closely.

They spent the rest of the walk to the end of the lane ribbing each other, Yugyeom’s odd mood earlier completely forgotten.

When they arrived at the shop, no one was manning the register at the counter.

It was quiet inside. There was an air of abandonment that could be just a ploy to dissuade the wrong sort of customer. It never really seemed like the type of shop that needed or wanted all types of attention, not like the candy shops or joke shops in the main street did.

The few times Jaebeom spotted someone from school inside the shop, he mostly saw Muggleborns or students with at least one Muggle parent.

It wasn’t really the type of establishment that students of magic would frequent unless they sought the shop for something specific in mind. 

He only ever bought film rolls there, but he always made it a point to peruse the mismatched shelves inside. 

The stillness of the empty shop was calming, almost meditative.

Behind him, Yugyeom followed quietly—a rare thing, really. But Yugyeom was Muggleborn, so he had no reason to be curious and awed by the mundane objects displayed. The loud shrieking of delight and amusement were normally from—

“Mark, look at _ this _! It’s ridiculous, I adore it!”

—Pureblood wizards who have never seen Muggles nor been to any Muggle town.

He _ knew _that voice.

When Jaebeom turned to the next aisle of shelves, he immediately saw what the racket was all about.

Mark Tuan stood there, back turned to him, recognizable by the fading red of his dyed hair. In front of him, Bambam was waving around what looked like a bawdy tourist _ snow globe_, of all things.

“I mean, look at it! What’s it supposed to do?” he went on, giggling as he examined the glass ornament in his hand.

Before Jaebeom could step back, avoid trouble and all that, the younger Slytherin’s luminous eyes—were those _ cat eyes_?—locked with his.

“Oi! Yugyeom Kim, you’re a Muggle, aren’t you? What in Salazar’s drawers is _ this_?”

He shook the aforementioned thing, sending a flurry of false snow made of glitter whirling around the glass globe.

His eerie eyes were still locked with Jaebeom’s, though.

Mark Tuan turned and spotted them, face devoid of any emotion. He said nothing, ignoring the slow shift in the atmosphere.

Behind Jaebeom, he felt Yugyeom tense up, unprepared for the encounter.

“Leave him alone,” warned Jaebeom, eyes hardening.

This only seemed to amuse the cat-eyed Slytherin further. “It was a perfectly innocent question,” he said, pouting. “Weren’t your parents and grandparents the ones encouraging more wholesome curiosity about the Muggle world from ignorant Purebloods like us?”

Jaebeom took a step forward, more than ready for a confrontation. But Yugyeom’s slightly quivering voice held him back.

“Uh, that’s a snow globe.”

Bambam’s eyes stayed on Jaebeom for a beat, then he looked at Yugyeom properly, expression shifting immediately to delight. The eerie thing was, the emotion had seemed _ genuine_. “A _ snow _globe? How did it become a snow globe? Does it Conjure snow, is that it?”

At that last bit, a flicker of real excitement appeared in the Slytherin’s eyes, as he hurried to the shop’s windows as if to check.

They all watched him, Jaebeom and Yugyeom, and Mark Tuan. They saw him turn back around slowly, a pout on his face.

“There’s no snow!”

“It can’t really Conjure snow,” Yugyeom explained, still timid and a little bit flushed. “It’s not magic.”

“I mean, I _ know _that, but why is it called a snow globe?” complained Bambam in turn. He strode forward and thrust the object in his hand to Yugyeom’s face and shook it.

Jaebeom did not miss Yugyeom’s flinch. If the Slytherin noticed it too, he only bulldozed right through it completely.

“Look, touch it. It’s not even cold or anything.”

He held it out to Yugyeom, who finally glanced back to Jaebeom. He looked bewildered, flustered, but not scared or angry.

Jaebeom was at a loss on what to do.

“Stop bothering them, Bam. You’re annoying,” came Mark Tuan’s reprimanding tone.

“Me? Annoying?” cried the Slytherin in question, clutching his heart as if hurt.

“Yes, you’re a menace. Just leave them alone.”

Bambam whirled around, “Am I annoying you? _ Me_?”

Yugyeom muttered, “Not really,” quietly, the same time that Jaebeom snidely said, “Yes.”

Jaebeom's gaze snapped back to his friend at that, but Yugyeom’s eyes were resolutely trained on the snow globe.

Yugyeom gently took it from Bambam’s hand, as it was still thrust in front of his face, and turned it over his own hands.

“It’s just supposed to be a small scene, usually a Christmas or something,” he explained. “And it usually has fake snow made with glitters. There’s water inside, so if you shake it like this, the ‘snow’ will fall on the little scene inside.”

The Hufflepuff demonstrated by shaking the globe lightly, causing the settling glitters into a whirlwind of faux snow falling over...a mermaid figurine.

“But that’s a mermaid!” Bambam complained, realizing the same thing.

Yugyeom, for some reason, blushed redder at the accusing tone. “Well, usually it’s a Christmas scene inside, but it could also be just something pretty. Something from a fairytale, probably."

Bambam’s mouth dropped into an “O” and his cat eyes (was he _ for real_?) shone like glitter too.

“Pretty!” he exclaimed, and Yugyeom put the globe back into his outstretched hand. “Mark, _ please _ will you get me this one? _ Pretty _please?”

“You’re richer than the three of us combined—why don’t _ you _buy it?” replied Tuan, who already had his back turned from them, examining the shelf in front of him.

The younger Slytherin bristled. “That’s not the point! You’re older, and you love me anyway, so buy it for me!”

“Buy it yourself. And keep quiet.”

“If Jinyoung were here, he would have bought this for me already _ ages ago._”

“Go get Jinyoung, then. I could finally have some peace and quiet,” Mark retorted.

Jaebeom and Yugyeom stood there, bewildered, as the two Slytherins argued with each other with such convoluted logic. He had never heard of anyone reason the way Bambam and even Mark did, Jaebeom thought to himself, and it rightfully left him at odds.

And for the first time, he noticed that, indeed, Jinyoung was not with the two Slytherins.

He immediately voiced this out without thinking about it.

Mark Tuan turned back to him, a small uptick at the corner of his mouth, while Bambam continued to rant at him. It was a look of amusement, but not a genuine one. 

Jaebeom honestly did not know what it meant.

“With Jisoo and Doyoung, probably,” Mark responded lightly, casually, as if he expected that his statement made sense to Jaebeom.

“Oh, I see,” Jaebeom replied.

But in a way, he did.

He knew Jisoo Kim and Doyoung Kim, true enough, though he did not encounter them in the castle as often as he saw Mark and Bambam as Jinyoung’s entourage.

But he did know them, having grown up in similar enough places and social circles. They were both from old wizarding families like him, and grew up knowing Jisoo and Doyoung in the same way that he knew Jinyoung to a certain extent.

It was just news to him, he supposed, to know that the three of them actually interacted with each other when at Hogwarts. He thought the three of them were only casual acquaintances, forced to be civil to each other because of their social status.

“Yeah, Johnny said he saw Jisoo climb up to their dorm room to wake up Doyoung, but she managed to wake everyone up in the room, too,” Bambam added, apparently done with his complaints. “Or, Doyoung’s cursing did. Mark’s the only one who completely missed the whole thing.”

“Thank Salazar for that,” Mark muttered.

This was easily the single, most bewildering encounter Jaebeom had ever had with the two Slytherins. They were acting like themselves, all casually arrogant about being rich and a Pureblood, bratty in Bambam’s case, but where there was usually an exchange of open hostility between their parties, today there was none.

He couldn’t help but wonder if this weirdly civil interaction was a product of Jinyoung’s machinations, that odd little truce he offered back in the library. To make him _ look _ and _ see _ if his words, his sentiments, were real.

Godric’s beard, but Jinyoung Park was one confusing arse.

“Why are you guys here, anyway?” blurted Yugyeom. “This is a Muggle shop.”

“No it’s not,” Bambam immediately answered. “It can’t be—this is a wizarding village, after all.”

Flustered, Yugyeom backtracked. “I mean, yeah. But most of the things sold here are Muggle stuff. I didn’t think you’d be interested in any of these.”

“Do you know, I didn’t think so myself!” exclaimed Bambam. “But now that you’ve explained what this tiny precious thing is, I suppose I see the point in being fascinated by Muggles. I’m kind of regretting that I did not take the Muggle Studies class, after all.”

“Oh,” was Yugyeom’s apt reply to the Slytherin’s enthusiasm.

“We picked up a package here from Hakyeon. He left it for Jinyoung as a surprise,” said Mark.

_ “Hakyeon?” _Jaebeom repeated, astonished.

He wasn’t sure which part of that he was more surprised about—the fact that Hakyeon knew about this place or the fact that he knew the shopkeeper enough to leave something for safekeeping _ here_.

Hakyeon’s surprise, that was nothing to be shocked about. Everyone at Hogwarts knew how much he doted on his younger cousin, even those outside their House.

“Yes, he’s leaving for Romania for his apprenticeship. He wanted to see Jinyoung, but he knew he’d back out of the program if he saw how thin Jinyoung had gotten.”

Before Jaebeom could come up with a response, the shop’s door opened, announced by the tinkle of the bell above it.

Jinyoung entered backwards, fondly exasperated as he argued with Doyoung Kim, who held out a steaming mug in offer.

“I’m cold, but I’m not quite sure I will welcome a trip to the Hospital Wing. Your taste in coffee brewing is enough to knock down a tiny dragon, I reckon,” said Jinyoung with a light grin.

“You are a heathen with no taste, a disgrace to the superior discerning tongue of Purebloods,” was Doyoung Kim’s reply. He forced the mug into Jinyoung’s hand, who had no choice but to accept. “But don’t worry—I found it in my heart to be magnanimous to lesser beings, so this brew is adjusted to your philistine tastes.”

“I’m fine, Doie, truly. Thank you for dropping me off.”

But Doyoung’s eyes were not trained on him anymore. They were on Jaebeom’s.

“What do we have here? An arrogant berk of a lion—”

Jinyoung whipped around, fast, almost sloshing the liquid inside the mug he held. 

“Hey, none of that now, Doyoung,” Bambam broke off with an easygoing grin. “It’s been actually entertaining to talk about Muggle things, isn’t that right Markie?”

“Quite,” said Mark flatly.

Jinyoung looked at all of them, one by one, eyes lingering on Mark’s. With Jaebeom, oddly enough, he quickly averted his gaze.

“Did you get what you were looking for, petal?” Jinyoung asked Bambam instead.

Bambam held up the snow globe in his hand. “Look at this pretty thing! You will get this for me, right Jinyoungie?” he crowed with an excited grin, as he bound up to Jinyoung, chattering. “Yugyeom Kim said this is a snow globe, but it doesn’t Conjure snow!”

The blond Slytherin led Jinyoung away to the cash register, where the shopkeeper whose name Jaebeom never really knew suddenly materialised.

“Cozy with us snakes, aren’t you, Lim?” Doyoung taunted once Jinyoung was out of earshot.

“Jinyoung probably wouldn’t appreciate conflict right now, Doyoung,” Mark cut in smoothly.

“Better be off my way now, if that’s the case,” acquiesced Doyoung gracefully though not without chill.

Mark said nothing, watching as Doyoung called out a quick goodbye to Jinyoung, disappearing back to the thin crowd outside the street.

Was _ this _part of the truce Jinyoung declared (one-sidedly) back at the library?

Jaebeom felt at odds with the entire encounter, and it wasn’t even over yet. Jinyoung hadn’t greeted him yet in that annoyingly posh, fake pleasant way he did every time he saw Jaebeom.

But the shopkeeper had already finished ringing Bambam’s purchase, but still, Jinyoung made no move to pester or even acknowledge Jaebeom.

Instead, he led his younger friend to the door, eyes searching for Mark easily and beckoning him with a small smile that left wrinkled whiskers at the corner of his eyes.

_ Like a cat_, Jinyoung had said that time in the library. Well, here he was—like a cat himself.

“See you around, Jaebeom Lim, Yugyeom Kim,” Mark stated simply, back already turned to them as he joined his friends.

The bell gave another jaunty tinkle as the door closed behind the trio.

“Bloody _ hell_,” Yugyeom exclaimed, oddly still flushed, though he did seem unable to make sense of the whole situation himself.

“I’ll treat you to a Butterbeer, ‘Gyeom. Let’s get out of here,” Jaebeom said, heaving a huge sigh.

Was _ that _what Jinyoung had meant about a truce? Making his friends act civilly towards Jaebeom, but completely ignoring him himself?

*

* * *

*

Outside, Mark made no mention of the uncharacteristic silence on Jinyoung’s part, when he completely ignored Jaebeom Lim’s presence inside the shop. Jinyoung was grateful in ways that he could never express fully, for his friend’s discretion and understanding.

Bambam skipped merrily beside them, hyper and euphoric because of his new toy.

“Do you reckon Latte will be fascinated by this?” said Bambam, though he seemed not to expect any response as he chattered endlessly to himself.

“Sorry, petal. I broke tradition again,” Jinyoung finally offered.

They were supposed to get breakfast together at the first Hogsmeade weekend, and trek to the village together to spoil Bambam with sweets and treat themselves to a fancy meal at _ The Lady of Sunrise_, a fairly new addition to Hogsmeade’s main street.

“It’s fine. It worked out quite well to our advantage, in the end,” Mark assured him.

“What do you mean?”

“Just a little surprise for you, is all.”

Jinyoung let out a surprised giggle. “A surprise? That is so uncharacteristic of you, Mark, really.”

“Luckily, this is not actually _ my _surprise,” Mark said as he handed a Shrunken package, “I owed someone a favour and got roped into picking it up for you.”

“By Salazar, you are one smooth talker,” Jinyoung chuckled. “I truly feel how much you value our friendship.”

“Wait until we get back to the castle to open that—those are your instructions for the day.”

“Oi, hurry up you slowpokes!” Bambam called out, way ahead of them. “We have to pick up something from the Owl Post, my uncle sent something probably too big to be dropped off over at breakfast.”

Jinyoung and Mark caught up to him, despite his buzzing energy.

“That one’s actually _ my _surprise for you, Mark,” Jinyoung stated casually, though the crinkling at the corner of his eyes (always an obvious dead giveaway, with how deep they were) gave away his amusement.

“What? Why would _ you _contact my uncle for anything?” Bambam wondered as they entered the building.

Jinyoung, a little shy but definitely fond, replied, “I asked him about what to do with Mrs. Armstrong. I feared the things she might need to recover were things that couldn’t be brewed here, so I asked him for advice.”

Mark and Bambam both gaped at him.

“It turns out, we are quite lucky. I could brew a potion that you could administer to Mrs Armstrong, though a key ingredient was not natively sourced here. This is probably what your uncle sent, Bamie.”

Like everything that day, Mark allowed an uncharacteristic giddy smile grace his face as he reached out to grasp Jinyoung’s arm in thanks—the closest thing to affection that all three of them could allow, outside the safe veil of privacy in the Slytherin common room.

From now on, there would be no more open and obvious displays of weakness, be it anger or love, for the three of them.

Not because an enemy could take advantage, no.

But because their vulnerabilities were only reserved for each other, for trusted and loyal friends who’d always just _ know _.

Jinyoung felt the apprehension he’d been feeling ever since Jisoo’s earlier revelation fade away at the sight of pure and unbriddled joy in his friends’ eyes.

This made _ everything _ worth it.

Every second.

Every Galleon.

Every sacrifice.

Every desperate clamour for more time.

Jinyoung would do _ everything _ to keep Bambam and Mark happy, to be the one who made them _ this _happy.

Even if it meant Manifesting as a Dark wizard.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys, I cannot believe the reception this fic is receiving! Every time I get an email notification about kudos and comments, I always tear up a little bit. I read all of your comments, (even the ones on Tumblr!!) and every single one of them makes me feel that I should never give up on this fic. So thank you!!! I know it's not easy to wait around without a definite timeline or update schedule, and life is unpredictably hectic like that, but this fic won't go down without a fight!
> 
> This was supposed to go up back in April, when I was still deluding myself that the time under lockdown was more time to write this fic. I was going to go on and on about how Jaebeom looked like a prince during the NBTM era, and how I got inspired to write a Wizarding party with that look in mind for Jaebeom's outfit. We'll see if we could set that up in a later chapter.
> 
> You can find me occasionally posting chapter teasers on Tumblr (liminalsp-ces).

**Author's Note:**

> I am liminalsp-ces on Tumblr! xx


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